Turnaround
by goldennight16
Summary: Just a random 'delena' clip about the scene between Katherine and Damon at the end of the finale, but with Elena and Damon instead.
1. Chapter 1

Elena walked slowly up to her home, frowning slightly to herself as she carried her dress bag in her arms. It was a reminder of the entire disaster that had been Founder's Day, and of the fear she had felt all day.

Stefan had almost been killed in that fire, and by the police. And so had Damon. Things could have gone so badly, so easily, and she wouldn't have been able to anything about it. She remembered that gut wrenching fear when Stefan had collapsed, the device hurting him, and her complete helplessness. If Alaric hadn't have shown up when he had, Stefan would have been taken away and...

No, she told herself, raising her head again and shaking her hair out of her face. She wouldn't think of that. Things had turned out okay, for the most part. And even if Bonnie _had _lied about the device, she'd still helped to save both Damon and Stefan's lives when she'd put out that fire. Maybe she was still going to come around to their side. Eventually.

She was dragging her feet slightly with weariness as she climbed the stairs; a weariness that was pushed aside as Damon was suddenly in front of her, walking _out _of her house. Surprise coloured her expression, and she slowed down as she approached.

"What are you doing here?" she asked slowly. If it wasn't unusual enough for him to be in her house without her there, she had expected him to be somewhere, resting. He had been dosed with a large amount of vervaine, and that had to still be making him feel weak.

He closed the front door slowly, seeming to be thinking over his words.

"A failed and... feeble attempt at doing the right thing," he said, almost smiling but not quite managing it. His words and manner seemed heavy, weighed down by something.

Elena took a deep breath, walking up another step. "Which was...?" she trailed off, inviting him to explain.

He walked over to her, shaking his head slightly and giving her a small, reassuring smile. "It's not important," he told her, before reaching for the bags in her hands.

"Here let me take this for you," he said quietly. He took the bags and set them aside, while she watched, torn between worried and confused. He didn't seem like his usual self. He wasn't mocking or sarcastic, not even in a friendly way. While she had seen Damon in rare moments of true emotion or vulnerability, this wasn't quite the same.

And so she watched him closely as she continued onto the porch, while he carefully placed her things on a chair.

"Thank you," she added belatedly, in a somewhat cautious voice. She wasn't quite sure what was going on with him, and she was concerned; she didn't want to upset him or hurt him accidentally. She didn't even know what was wrong.

But then he spoke quietly, really talking to her.

"You know, I came to this town wanting to destroy it," he told her, avoiding her eyes a little, looking at the house and out into the darkness. She just listened. "And tonight I... I found myself wanting to _protect _it." He met her gaze then, frowning slight as he stared at her, like he really couldn't understand. "How does that happen?" He shook his head minutely.

She tried to think of something to say, caught off guard by how vulnerable he suddenly looked, but she didn't have to.

"I'm not a hero, Elena," he said softly, almost sadly. "I don't do good." He frowned again, looking away from her, at the ground. "It's not... in me."

She almost took a step toward him. "Maybe it is," she offered. She'd seen enough of Damon now to know that he did have a good side, he just chose not to show it. She'd seen the good in him, and she believed in it.

He shook his head, and smiled gratefully at her, like he didn't believe she meant it.

"No. No, that's reserved for my brother," he said, looking at her pointedly. "And you." He smiled slightly, before genuine surprise took it's place. "And _Bonnie._"

He seemed to take a breath. "Even though she has every reason to hate me," he said bemusedly, "she still... helped Stefan save me." His gaze moved back, capturing hers.

"Why do you sound so surprised?" she asked slowly.

"Because she did it for you," he said quietly, looking at her seriously. His tone had a shade of accusation in it, but it wasn't hostile. He started moving closer to her, making her feel strange. Her heartrate increased just slightly, because of his proximity and his manner, which made her want to move away. But she didn't.

"Which means that somewhere along the way," he continued, stopping just before her. "You decided that I was worth saving." He still looked serious, as if he was thinking hard about something, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "And I wanted to..." He paused, his voice rough with emotion. "... thank you. For that." He frowned, staring down deep into her eyes. She stared back for a moment, and then nodded.

"You're welcome," she said. She knew that he needed to say this to her, but it had never really been in her to give up on Damon, for a long time now. She cared about him more than she could have imagined, and he was right - she _knew _that he was worth saving, even if he didn't.

He almost nodded and then, with a tenderness that amazed, leaned in and gently kissed her cheek. She felt surprise tingle through her at that feather-soft touch, and then something else. Her chest clenched slightly with something akin to panic as her heart increased to a much faster pace.

He pulled back slightly, and she knew he could hear it. He eyes ran over her face, taking in her expression, and she didn't know what he saw in her - assent, a daze, shock, it could have been any.

She watched as he started to slowly lean towards her, his eyes on hers as he waited for her to push him away, or start yelling. She waited, too, as she found her eyes being drawn to his lips, and then back to his serious blue eyes.

She couldn't take this back, she realised in some deep part of her mind. Either way, this moment was going to change everything. But she stayed where she was, looking into his eyes, until his lips met hers, and her eyes closed.

He kissed her softly, almost hesitantly, still giving her the chance to pull away. But, despite everything, she found herself kissing him back, drawn in by the utter sweetness and honesty of that action. And when his lips moved from hers for the space of a breath, testing her response, she was the one that brought her mouth back to his, and let the kiss deepen.

His hand came up to hold her face, his thumb against her jaw, and she could feel the gentleness in the way he held her, and in the way his mouth moved slowly but seriously with hers. Her hands were on his collar now, pulling him closer as she started to lose herself in him.

The front door opened, revealing Jenna standing there, her eyes wide with shock and thinly veiled anger. They broke apart, Damon turning away slightly as Elena looked guiltily at her Aunt, trying to swallow past her hammering heart.

"Hi," she said awkwardly.

"It's late," Jenna said flatly. "You should probably come inside."

Slightly dazed still, Elena flicked a glance at Damon's face before grabbing her things and walking past Jenna into the house. Jenna stared disapprovingly at Damon before she shut the door, who looked aside, seeming as affected as Elena had been.

Elena headed numbly for the stairs, vainly hoping that Jenna would somehow let her go in peace before Elena started screaming or crying or whatever would happen when she really thought about what she'd just done. But she had no such luck.

"What are you doing?" Jenna sounded shocked, hurt and almost scared. She stared at Elena wide eyes.

"I-I don't know," she stammered honestly. She didn't have any explanation for why she'd just... She'd just kissed Damon. "I don't know. Please, I have to go," she managed before Jenna could get anything else out, and ran up the stairs. She retreated to her room, throwing her things on the bed and leaning up against the closed doors.

What had she done? She loved Stefan. She knew that. She was certain that she loved Stefan. And Stefan knew that she loved him. And Damon knew that she loved Stefan. Everyone knew that she was Stefan's - that she only loved Stefan.

But she'd kissed Damon. Willingly. She felt for her necklace at her throat, hating herself. She couldn't even blame Damon; he'd given her enough chance to resist, and she hadn't.

Guilty tears seeped out from the corners of her eyes, and she let herself slide to the ground, the burning, crushing weight in her chest pulling her down.

She wished that Jenna hadn't walked in when she had, at least so that she could have figured out what that had been. But then again, she thought as more tears escaped, it was probably much better that it had ended when it did. Even now, touching her lips, she could still feel him, and the deep, warm, heady sensation he had brought out in her. And so she didn't know how much she could have trusted herself to stop him.

Her throat burned with emotion, and she had to tell someone what had just happened. She couldn't talk to Jenna, she was already ashamed enough because of the disappointment she'd seen in her eyes. She didn't think she could even look at Stefan in her guilt, and Bonnie would _never _speak to her again if she found out.

Not even bothering to fix her crying-face, she left her room, walking across to her brother's bedroom door. She knocked quietly, leaning against the wood.

"Jeremy?" she sniffled. "Jeremy are you in there? Look, I really need to talk to someone, okay? I'm sorry about everything that happened, but I just -" She didn't finish, swallowing back a small sob that hurt her throat. "Please, Jer, just say something! Anything. Tell me to go to hell again, just please talk to me. We have to talk this out."

She waited, but there was no response but silence again.

"Jer?" Nothing. "I'm coming in, okay?" She waited a couple of seconds before opening the door. He was curled up on his bed. She felt guilty suddenly at trying to unload on her brother, when for all she knew he was going through something himself.

"Hey, Jeremy, are you okay?" She noticed his eyes were closed, then, and went over to him, sitting beside him on the bed. He'd hurt his neck laying like that. She tried to get him to release his hold on the pillow underneath his head, but he was holding too tightly.

She shook his shoulder gently, trying to wake him up. "Jer," she said by his ear, before poking him playfully in the ribs, something that always manage to wake him. "Jeremy."

Dread started to ear away at the bottom of her stomach, and her voice kicked up a couple of octaves. "Jeremy. _Jeremy._" She shook his whole body more violently, frightened tears now falling down her cheeks. "Jeremy, wake up!"

With a shaking hand, she reached out to touch his face. It was cold. Too cold.

Her scream shattered the quiet of the house.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Jenna!_" Elena shrieked. She staggered forward to Jeremy's bed, clawing at his unmoving body. She jerked his legs out straight, pushing him flat down on the bed. "Jeremy? Jer? Come on, Jer. _Jenna! Help!" _

"It's okay," she whispered, smacking at his cheeks. His eyes flickered slightly, moving beneath his lids blindly. Elena sucked in a sharp breath, hope colouring her expression.

She was dragging at his arms desperately and patting his cheeks when Jenna burst into the room, her cheeks flushed and phone in hand.

"What is it? What happened?" she demanded, frenzied.

"I don't know!" Elena yelled back. "Call an ambulance! Now!" She turned back to her brother, murmuring his name over and over under her breath.

The ambulance arrived soon after that, bearing them all away to the hospital.

Stefan looked up from his book as his brother walked into the house. He set the copy of _Myths and Legends of the Underworld _beside him on the couch, standing up and unconsciously crossing his arms across his chest.

"Where have you been?" he asked in a neutral voice. Damon seemed oddly distracted; it took a moment for his eyes to meet Stefan's.

"Nowhere." His voice was dazed, and he was frowning slightly. He gestured vaguely at Stefan as he walked past him, toward the stairs. "Please, don't let me disturb your... reading."

Stefan's brow furrowed, too, at his brother's strange behaviour. He stared after him, debating whether or not follow it up, but it his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Still frowning, he answered it, voice lower than usual.

"Hello?"

Elena's panicked, tearful voice greeted him from the other end. "Stefan? Stefan, I'm in the hospital."

Cold dread trickled down his spine, and he tried to relax his hand before he crushed the phone. "What happened?" he asked with forced calm. "Are you okay?"

It was a moment before she answered. He could hear her crying. "I'm fine, it's not me. He -" she sobbed slightly. "Jeremy tried to kill himself. They're pumping his stomach now."

"I'll be right there. I'm so sorry, Elena."

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I love you."

He heard her breath hitch slightly over the line. "I love you, too." He hung up, looking up to see Damon standing in the archway, a look of concern on his face.

"What's happening?" he asked.

For one brief flash, Stefan considered withholding what he'd just learned. The jealousy he'd been trying to suppress over the past few weeks was coming back, whispering that Elena might need a.... friend right now. Someone who knew a little something about masochism.

But he could never do that. To either of them.

"Jeremy," was all he said, before vanishing out of the door, Damon right behind him.

Jeremy was unconscious, laying asleep in the hospital bed with an IV bag linked up to his hand, pumping nutrients in to replace those he'd lost. For now, he was blissfully unaware of his circumstance, or of the hurt and pain that he was going to wake up to.

Jenna was on one side of the bed, leaning against the mattress, clinging tightly to her nephew's limp hand and staring into his sleeping face. She was pale, her eyes wide and tired. Elena was on the other side, her hands resting on his forearm, away from the IV, and toying absently with his sleeve.

"I called John," Jenna said in a low voice, breaking the silence. "I just thought... he had the right to be here, if he wanted." She looked around the small room, as if he would somehow appear. "I don't know why he isn't here."

"I'm sure he'll be here soon, Jenna," Elena reassured her, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. She wasn't sure how to treat John now, and she wasn't even sure she even wanted to see him, but Jenna was right. He was family.

"If he bothers to show up," Jenna muttered angrily under her breath, her grip tightening protectively on Jeremy's fingers.

Elena didn't respond.

A few minutes later, Stefan appeared at the door, a look of sharp concern on his face as he took in the scene before him. Elena lept to her feet, throwing herself into his embrace and locking her arms around his neck. Her gaze slid unintentionally to meet Damon, who was standing behind them. Guilt was plain in her eyes as she looked over at the worry in his face, before he looked aside, slipping back into his snide mask. He walked past, deliberately squeezing past them both into the room.

"I'm so glad you're here," Elena breathed by Stefan's ear, trying to make her voice too quiet for Damon's keen hearing. She pulled away, taking some strength from his reassuring smile. She looked back at her brother once, making sure he was still there, and her eyebrows twitched up in surprise. Jenna and Damon were speaking to each other in quiet tones, and Jenna actually seemed... grateful. In spite of herself, Elena tried to hear what they were saying.

"... why he would have done this at all," Jenna was saying softly.

Stefan tugged on Elena's hand, nodding towards the hall outside. Casting once last glance at Jeremy, she followed him out of the room, looking up into his face.

"What is it, Stefan?"

"Are you okay?" he asked gently, but almost like he was stalling. Her eyes studied his expression closely.

"No, I'm not. Tell me what's going on."

He sighed. "Damon thinks there may be something... more to Jeremy's... attempt."

Her brows pulled together in confusion. "I don't understand," she said slowly. "Something more?"

Stefan's gaze flicked over her shoulder suddenly, and he moved back to a more acceptable distance as Jenna walked out.

"I'm going to get some coffee," she said tightly, her eyes flickering between the couple. "Do you want any?" She looked pointedly at Elena, who guiltily remembered the... incident from earlier. It had been wiped from her mind with Jeremy and everything else, but she couldn't deny the accusation in her Aunt's eyes. She looked down.

"No, thanks," she mumbled. She had to wait until Jenna was gone before she could meet her boyfriend's gaze. She ignored the question there. "What did Damon say?"

In answer, Stefan gestured toward the room behind them. His gaze flickered to Elena as she took in a sharp breath, almost a gasp, as she crossed through the doorway.

Damon didn't bother dissembling. "Jeremy was trying to become a vampire," he said baldly.

"What?" Elena demanded, looking from him to Jeremy. "No. How is that even possible?" The answer came to her as soon as she said it. "Anna."

He nodded. "I'm..." He made a thoughtful face. "...90% sure that she was trying to turn him before the torch and pitchfork crowd got out and started lynching," he muttered bitterly. Elena's expression softened in compassion.

"But... why did he do it now? Why would he try and turn without talking to anyone about it? Why wouldn't he tell me?"

Stefan's arm went around her shoulders, squeezing comfortingly.

"He didn't want to _feel_," Damon said quietly from across the room, leaning against the windowsill almost wearily. "He wanted to shut it all off." He looked over at Jeremy, before glancing up and catching her gaze. "He didn't want to have to... be without her." He shifted uncomfortably, eyes flickering to the boy again.

Stefan's expression had frozen slightly, and he looked down at Elena's face for just a moment.

"When he wakes up," Elena asked slowly, her forehead furrowed in thought, "will he still have the blood in his system?"

Stefan nodded. "It will be there for a while, and so they'll probably need to keep an eye on him," he said soothingly.

"But it won't hurt him, if they give him any medication? It won't cause any side effects or anything?"

"No, nothing."

She sighed deeply in relief, her shoulders relaxing as the tension left her. "Good." An odd expression came over her face as she suddenly thought of John again. He should have been there by now; she knew Jenna had called him. He was a jerk sometimes, but Jeremy was still his nephew. And he had shown that he cared about him.

"You didn't happen to go past my house on the way here, did you?" she asked, looking from Stefan to Damon.

"No," Stefan answered with some confusion, exchanging a glance with his brother. "Why?"

"It's just... John. He should be here by now."

"Well, we can go now, if you like," Stefan offered, but Elena was already shaking her head.

"No, I... I want to be here when he wakes up. I have to be."

His expression changed to understanding. "That's fine, I'll -"

"No," Damon interrupted, moving to the middle of the room. "I'll go. I'm not really part of this heart warming moment, anyway." He tried to flash the traditional smirk, but his ice blue eyes moved over Elena's sad expression, and he looked at her seriously. "I'll go find John."

He left without a parting glance to either of them.

Elena sighed again, her lips thinning into a line as she stared bleakly out of the window. Stefan pulled her into another hug, setting his chin on the top of her head while she buried her face in his jacket.

Damon walked into the Gilbert house, going through the back door rather than the front. He'd created enough problems on that porch for one night. As soon as he got in the door, the scent of blood washed over him, causing the faint, familiar burn inside him.

He followed that, moving from the kitchen into the living room, and the gruesome sight before him. On the coffee table, beside a small, dark puddle of blood on the glass, sat two... and a half... severed fingers. His eyebrows twitched up once in surprise, before flashing over to the scene.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he looked around the rest of the room. There were no other indicators of a struggle, he noticed, his eyes roving sharply about the house. But whoever had done it had not bothered to get rid of the evidence; they were in a hurry.

And, if it was a vampire, they'd had an invitation. Not many could get away with that in this house.

He pulled out his cell phone, dialling a number quickly, still scrutinizing the scene, landing on the bloody digits. There weren't a lot of reasons to take that particular action.

"Damon?" the man answered, worry in his voice.

"Hi, Ric," Damon greeted in a sarcastically cheerful tone. "Say, you didn't happen to lose track of a couple of your fingers, did you?"

"What?" Alaric Saltzman demanded, the line buzzing slightly.

"Take that as a no." He hung up.

Definetely John, then. He wasn't looking forward to sharing that particular piece of news.

Alaric looked blankly at the phone in his hand, before shaking his head slightly and stowing it back in his pocket. Damon made less sense than most, he thought bemusedly, looking down at his healthy, intact hand. _'Lose track of his fingers'? _

He shook his head again and got out of the car, heading toward the hospital entrance. No one had really told him exactly what had happened. The phone had been passed around a lot, between Jenna and Elena and Stefan. He'd caught on that something had happened to Jeremy, something that they needed his help with, but that was it.

Elena was waiting for him at the entrance, sitting alone on the bench outside, her face illuminated by the lights lining the footpath. He walked over to her, concern on his face.

"Elena," he called, and her head turned toward him, her gaze focusing on his face before a wan smile bent her lips.

"Hi," she said quietly, looking up at him as he approached.

He sat down beside her, looking out into the darkness for a moment and clasping his hands together. "Getting some air?"

She nodded, sighing. "Yes. I needed to get out of there for a while. I mean the crying alone was bad enough to watch, and then they had to go and bond... it was oddly humiliating."

Confusion took over his face, staying there for just a moment before his expression turned grave. Almost unconsciously, Alaric started twisting at his ring.

"Katherine."

She sighed happily and, in a way that made his skin crawl, reached out and put her arm through his. "Yes. And might I say thank you. You don't know what a relief it is to hear that after 'Elena' this and _'Elena'_ that. "_Elena, how nice to see you",_" she mimicked in a high voice. "_'Elena, why are you doing this to me?' 'Elena, you're hurting me'_" She turned to look him full in the face, scoffing slightly. "Does _everyone _in this town know her?"

"If you were going to try something, you would've done so already," he said knowingly, ignoring her chatting. "You can't have been here long, or you would have done something dramatic. We would know."

She dropped the act. "Where's Isobel?" she asked in a dangerous voice.

Genuine confusion showed in his eyes. "I don't know."

Her grip on his arm tightened painfully, making him wince. "Don't lie to me." Her voice was entreating, a cruel parody of Elena's earnest tone.

"Isobel left," Alaric said. "She's gone. For good."

And then she was gone, vanishing from beside him on the bench. He leant back, running a hand over his face tiredly.

Damon walked into the hospital room, noticing the extra presence in the room as Alaric Saltzman turned to face him, a familiar, grave expression on his face as he did so. Elena was sitting next to Jeremy, staring at him wide-eyed. One quick glance told him that Jeremy hadn't woken.

"Geez, who died?" he muttered, trying to lighten the oppressive silence in the small space. Blank stares greeted his comment, but he found himself drawn to one afraid, chocolate-brown gaze.

"What happened?" he asked in a low voice, controlling the sudden fire inside him that demanded he either find and obliterate whatever had put that fear in her, or take her and run.

No one spoke for a few seconds. Then Alaric spoke heavily.

"Katherine."

"Katherine."

John spat out a mouthful of thick blood, coughing and sputtering into the cold ground beneath him. He tried to roll onto his back, the movement making him retch again, blood coating the inside of his lips.

Katherine stood above him, staring down without expression. There wasn't anger in her face, nor even curiousity.

"I don't know where she went," he gasped. "I swear. She gave me the device, and then she left. I don't know where she went after that."

He rolled his face up from the ground, the light revealing the myriad of cuts and bruises rioting across his skin, the blood continuing down his neck and torso and pooling beneath him. He clutched at his mutilated hand, the other stuck beneath him.

"I don't know anything," he said again, his eyes closing slightly.

Katherine pounced, driving the knife in her hand deep into his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE: Sorry if the last few chapters were a little confusing, jumping around the characters like that, I didn't realise that they weren't separated once I uploaded them. Hopefully this will be better. :) xox **

Katherine sat casually on a straight backed chair beside John's body, one leg crossed over the other. She twirled the bloody knife casually in one hand. After a moment, her foot shot out, catching his body cruelly in the ribs.

John shot up, gasping for air. He clutched at his chest for a moment before calming, looking down at his whole chest with detached curiosity. Next, he brought his hands up for inspection; he clenched both hands twice, testing the complete sets of fingers on both hands. He looked at the ring on his finger, and then over to Katherine, who was watching his experimentation with apathy.

He dropped his hands. "Why bother killing me if you know I'm coming straight back?" he asked coldly, in almost a bored tone. "I will never understand the melodrama that seems to be genetic in your kind." He looked aside disdainfully.

"Oh, stop," she said coyly. "You're going to hurt my feelings. I will let you die when it suits me. For now I'll just have to be content with allowing you to amuse me. And you _will_ behave."

"What are you going to do to me that you haven't already?" he demanded, laughing without humour. He looked down again at his bloody, slashed clothing with bitterness. "Kill me?"

"I can turn you into one of us."

He stopped laughing immediately. "You... wouldn't do that."

"You underestimate me, John," she said, getting to her feet and taking a turn around the small, dingy room. She didn't falter as she walked through the thin, filtering sunlight. "You disobeyed me by going after the Salvatores. As did Isobel." She sighed slightly. "I would have thought my progeny would be more obedient," she mused, stopping her pacing for a moment with a thoughtful expression. "Maybe the next one will be more appropriate."

John's head jerked around, a strange dread coming over his face in the dim lighting. "The next one?"

She flashed around, appearing to crouch in front of him with inhuman speed. He flinched back almost unconsciously, wariness sparking in his eyes.

"When I find Isobel, I am going to kill her." She said it carefully, as if to avoid confusion. "And that could be unpleasant in future; I've found I rather like having my descendants close by."

He opened his mouth to speak but she grabbed his chin, slamming his teeth together with a clack in the process and cutting him off.

"Did you think that I wouldn't find out about your daughter? My own personal doppelganger?" She clicked her tongue at him and stood, a considering expression came over her face. "I've been watching her, John, and she is... interesting. She seems inconveniently _moral _for the moment, but that could all change when she turns."

John's nostrils flared in anger, and his lips pressed into a thin line. Katherine brushed a curl back from her face with elaborate calm.

"She'd be well suited to this life," she continued. "I don't know if you've seen the influence she has over this town, but I have. And then there's her relationship with the Salvatore brothers, and you know how I feel about that." She put a hand on her chest, looking over at him over her shoulder. "A woman after my own heart, it seems."

"You can't turn Elena into... one of you," he said in a controlled voice. "Even if you could get to her - which you can't - she'd bring too much attention down on you. It's a stupid plan, even for you."

He groaned as the knife slid into his stomach, his face whitening in pain. His eyes bulged slightly, the veins in his neck also sticking out.

"I am going to kill Elena Gilbert, John," she said in an emotionless voice. "One way or the other."

I I I I I I I I I I I I

"Well, what did she say to you, _exactly_?" Damon asked coldly, glaring at Alaric. Both were out in the hall, away from the hospital room. "Since you seem to have _so_ much trouble explaining it on your own."

Alaric gave him a levelled look. "As I said. She wanted to know where Isobel was."

"And what did you tell her?"

"The truth," he said in an offended tone. "That I didn't know where she went. I don't even know why she came to me."

"Yes. I wonder why she came to the husband of her vampire lackey for information. She has no idea what she's doing, obviously." He started pacing slightly, shifting restlessly.

"That isn't helping, Damon."

He ignored that. "Well, did she say anything about Elena?" he asked quickly. He ran a hand through his hair swiftly. "_Anything?_"

Alaric shook his head minutely, looking away as he remembered. "She implied that she'd been going around pretending to be Elena, but I don't think she really had. Also, Katherine seemed to be annoyed that I knew who Elena was. That a lot of people knew who she was," he clarified.

Damon's hand curled into a loose fist by his side, and his expression was tight and cold as he stared past Alaric, back down the hall.

Alaric frowned slightly, following Damon's gaze and scrutinizing his pensieve expression.

"Why do you care?" he challenged, suspicion kindling in his eyes. "Why so concerned about her all of a sudden?" He shifted away slightly, looking more closely at the other, before Damon gathered himself together, returning the look mockingly.

Then he twisted his mouth wryly, waving a reproving finger in Alaric's face. "Uh, uh," he chastised. "No trying to get into this skull, now. I'm just saving myself from an eternity of Stefan's brooding. One was enough to go through, bel_ieve _me."

"And that's all there is to it. I'm sure."

Damon's cold gaze snapped back to Alaric's face, as he shifted forward aggressively, getting in the other man's face. "And what is _that _supposed to mean, _Ric," _he hissed. He made the nickname sound like an insult.

"Only an idiot could miss the weirdness between the three of you these past few days."

"I'm surprised you noticed, then."

Alaric sighed. "Fine. Pretend this isn't becoming a problem for everyone," he said in a low voice, before turning and walking back toward the room. Damon's lip curled up slightly in annoyance, and he glared briefly at the blank wall ahead of him. Then he stalked off in the opposite direction with angry, jerky movements.

I I I I I I I I I I I I

Elena looked up as Alaric returned to the room unaccompanied. She lifted her head from Stefan's shoulder, peering around the door.

"Where's Damon?" she asked quietly, suppressing a yawn. He shrugged slightly without answering, and a light frown lined her forehead.

"I'm sure he's fine," Stefan murmured, running a hand over her forearm reassuringly.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Probably." She yawned again, her hand coming up to smother it belatedly. Stefan noticed.

"Why don't I take you home," he offered quietly. "You can get some sleep, and then come back here in the morning. No one would blame you for wanting to sleep."

She sighed deeply through her nose, tilting her head to look up at him. "I would. I want to be here for - Jeremy!" she said, straightening up with a broad smile. All the heads in the room turned to Jeremy, as his eyes flickered open.

A look of blank incomprehension reigned over his face as he took in his surroundings and tried to sit up. Then the little blood in his face drained away. His expression turned grave, his jaw setting angrily.

"Jeremy," Jenna said in relief, oblivious to the emptiness in his eyes. "You're awake. Thank God, we didn't know how long -"

Jeremy threw an arm over his eyes, his mouth turning down in distaste as the movement tugged on the IV in his hand.

"What is it?" Jenna asked in a concerned tone. "What can I do?"

"You can get out," Jeremy said in a low voice. He took his arm away, looking at her with debilitating sadness in his gaze. "Please. Just leave me alone." He turned his head aside as they began to file out, looking up only as Elena started to approach the bed.

"Jer, -" she began.

"Just go, Elena."

Her lips pressed together, and she nodded, taking Stefan's waiting hand and leaving the room. Elena went straight over to Jenna and pulled her into a tight hug, the earlier incident with Damon forgotten.

Stefan pulled Alaric aside, exchanging a grave look.

"I'm not sure she's going to be entirely safe back at the house," Stefan said in an undertone, his gaze flicking to Jenna and back. "And even so, it might not be the best place right now." He added emphasis to his words, remembering Damon's short description of what he'd found as 'messy'.

Alaric nodded. "You're right," he agreed. "If Katherine has an invitation..." He didn't need to elaborate. "Jen can stay at my place for now, until we deal with this. Elena will stay with you, right?"

He nodded. "Thank you for everything you've done, Alaric," he said sincerely.

He brushed aside the thanks. "It's no problem at all." He glanced over at Elena and Jenna, who were talking quietly. "I'm happy to help." Smiling in farewell, he went over to Jenna and started walking away with her, speaking quietly as they left.

"Alaric's going to take care of Jenna for now," he told her softly. "And, if you're willing, I'd like you to stay at the boarding house for a while. Until it's safe for you back home."

Elena nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's fine. I've stayed there before, anyway. But Jeremy..."

"He'll be fine here. As soon as he wants to talk, you can be there for him. But for now, you just have to let him deal with it for now. He'll come around eventually."

"I love you," she said after a moment, leaning into him with a sigh. He wrapped his arms around her for a moment before taking her hand.

"I love you, too."

He took her straight to the boarding house from the hospital, not stopping once on the way there. He stopped as they got out of the car, not following her into the house, and she looked across at him with a confused look on her tired face.

"Something wrong?"

He shook his head straight away, smiling comfortingly. "Nothing. I'll just drop over at your house, pick a few things..." She raised an eyebrow at his hesitation. "Clean up," he added unwillingly.

"Oh." She took a deep breath. "Okay. Thank you. I'll see you later," she said and, with a quick kiss, walked back toward the house. Stefan gazed after her for just a moment before vanishing from the driveway, taking off at full speed.

Elena pushed through the front door, closing it quietly behind her and blinking in the dim firelight. Her eyes slid over the couch a few times before she realised Damon was sitting there, holding a glass of scotch pressed against his temple.

"Damon," she said in a worried voice. At her voice, he stood with inhuman speed, darting over to the drinks cart. "Is everything okay?"

He glanced over his shoulder at where she hovered anxiously at the top of the steps. "Everything's fine, Elena," he said shortly, turning away again. Elena felt awkward suddenly, remembering their kiss earlier. It had only been hours ago, and yet it felt like days to her. With everything that had happened... well, this probably wasn't the best time to bring it up.

But it might be the only time she could, she realised slowly. There weren't going to be a lot of opportunities for her to talk to Damon alone, without Stefan within earshot, and she wanted to talk it out with Damon first. And then she would tell Stefan everything.

"Look, Damon, about earlier," she began, but he cut her off, turning to face her and leaning against the table behind him.

"It's okay, Elena," he said calmly. "I already know what you're going to say."

"You do." It wasn't quite a question.

"Mhm. You're going to tell me about how it was all a mistake, and that it's not fair to my brother." He fixed her with a slightly unsteady gaze, and she wondered how much he'd had to drink already. "It's fine. It was just a lapse in judgement, it's not your fault." He collapsed into the seat again, sipping at his drink and staring into the fire.

"It can't happen again," she told him seriously. "You know that, don't you?"

"Of course it won't." He almost sounded offended, and he walked over to her. "I'll be your friend, Elena," he said sincerely, his words slurring just a little. "That's all. No tricks, no schemes, no flirting. And that's a promise. You can forget anything ever happened. Between us." He gestured with his glass for emphasis before taking another drink.

He started to walk back to his spot.

"I don't know that we can be friends," Elena said quietly, looking down.

He turned more slowly this time, looking at her incredulously. "You don't think I can control myself from now on?" he asked in a low voice. "Tonight was a _thank you_. The exception; you can trust me for the rest of the time, you know."

She raised her face to meet his gaze squarely. "I know that I can trust you," she said very quietly. She placed a slight emphasis on the word 'you'.

Damon's expression changed, going blank in surprise as he looked at her. Her chin lifted beneath that strong gaze as he contined to regard her.

"Please," she continued. "I don't want to ruin what I have with Stefan."

After a moment, he leaned back, allowing her to pass with a small nod. They both pretended not to notice the erratic beating of her heart as she walked out of the room to the stairs, nor the shaky breath she released as she sunk down onto Stefan's bed.

I I I I I I I I I I I I

"How about I cook you something?" Alaric offered lightly, as Jenna stepped out of the car. "I don't know if you're hungry or not."

"It's fine, really." She smiled tiredly. "Since I'm already holding you for a place to stay, I don't think it's fair that I make you - Elena," she exclaimed, stopping in her tracks. "What are you doing here?"

Alaric shifted slightly, putting himself in front of her protectively as 'Elena' stepped forward, a fake look of concern on her face.

"I was just checking you were okay," Katherine said in a strained voice. She reached forward and put her arms around Jenna tightly, her eyes flashing to meet Alaric's deliberately. Her hand slowly stroked Jenna's light hair in a mockery of comfort. She pulled back, keeping her hold on Jenna as she looked over at Alaric.

"And I need to talk to Mr. Saltzman here, for just a little bit."

"Oh. What about?" she asked curiously, looking between them.

"Nothing, really. Don't you worry, Jenna. I'll talk to you again in a couple of minutes," she said significantly.

"Feel free to go inside, Jenna," Alaric said in a low voice. "Make yourself at home."

Jenna's gaze travelled from one to the other again, obviously noticing the tension, but she didn't comment on it as she walked away. Once she was gone, Katherine's hand shot out and grabbed Alaric's throat in a painfully tight grip, lifting him off the ground easily.

"I'm so sorry for this, Mr. Saltzman," she murmured. "But it seems there's only one way to bring Isobel out of hiding." Her head tilted to the side curiously, a moment before the door opened and revealed Jenna.

"Ric, is it alright if - Elena! What are you doing?" Horror took over her expression and she started out toward them.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Katherine said calmly. "I would prefer to keep another option open for later."

She vanished, taking Alaric Saltzman with her, and leaving Jenna staring open-mouthed after them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, I know this is kind of weird, but thanks for reading and everything. This is my first story, and it's nice to know that people like it. So thanks :) **

**Obviously, I don't own vampire diaries. **

Elena sat on her boyfriend's bed, one hand toying absently with the covers while guilt assaulted her chest, flooding it with pain - guilt for betraying Stefan, guilt for hurting Damon, guilt for not being there for Jeremy while he was hurting. She knew sitting here torturing herself over it wasn't going to help anything, either, she _knew _that. But she couldn't bring herself to do anything else right now.

She rubbed a hand across her face wearily, hunching forward slightly and leaning her elbows on her knees. When had everything gone wrong?

Her head jerked up as the door opened, Stefan walking into the room with her bag in his hands. He placed it beside the bed, moving to kneel in front of her with a concerned look on his face.

"Hey," he said gently, taking her hands. "What's wrong?"

Her expression twisted in discomfort and remorse, and she pulled her hands smoothly out his grasp, moving to the side. "Stefan, I have to talk to you about something," she said, trying to keep her voice strong and level. She would take anything he had to say to her, any anger that he had for her. She deserved it.

He sat down beside her on the bed, looking gravely into her eyes. "Okay."

She still hesitated, though, before she spoke, and reached out and took his hand, playing absently with his fingers. "Stefan," she began, still staring down at their hands. But she couldn't get it out.

"You can tell me anything that's on your mind," he said softly, after a long silence. "You know that."

Elena took a deep breath, moving her hands away and holding them in her lap instead. "Damon and I kissed."

She felt him freeze, and looked up, desperately trying to meet his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Stefan," she said hoarsely, tears welling up again in her eyes as her chest constricted painfully. "I'm sorry. It will never happen again, I swear to you. Please just say something, okay? Say anything you want. I'm just... I'm really sorry."

There was a small bubble of silence, and Elena's stomach plummetted with dread. But then he took her chin gently, lifting her face up.

"It's okay, Elena, I don't blame you," he said softly. "I'm not mad at you either."

Her lips moved without really forming words, and he smiled gently.

"Look, I know that you and... Damon have become closer recently. He was there for you, when I wasn't, and it's... understandable that you may be less guarded around him. He was bound to try something like this eventually."

Elena froze, comprehension slowly spreading over her face. He thought that Damon had kissed her, without her consent, and that _that _was what she was telling him. He thought that it had all been his brother. But no. It would be easier for all of them if Damon had done that. It would have been easier for her if he was the bad person Stefan thought him to be.

"No, Stefan, you -" She broke off as her phone started buzzing in her pocket. "It's Jenna," she said, pulling it out in some confusion. "Jenna, what's wrong?"

Jenna's frenzied, panicked breaths reached Elena before her voice. "Elena!" she cried. "What is going on? What happened to Ric? _What is going on?" _

She stood up, pressing the phone closer to her ear. "Jenna? What happened?"

"What did you do with Alaric?" she demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Elena said, flustered, looking appealingly at Stefan, who seemed just as confused.

"Get home, _now_, Elena. Right now."

The phone beeped, and Elena stared down at the phone incredulously.

"I have to go," she said lamely, before rushing out of the room, Stefan following after her.

* * *

Damon walked up the stairs to the boarding house unsteadily, his free hand holding onto the rail tightly as he pulled himself up. The other was holding the bottle of scotch completely straight as he drained the last few drops. Once it was empty, he threw it to the side, shattering it against the ground.

He was completely miserable. _Why _had he done it? He should have just left. He didn't have to say anything to her, he could have - should have - just kept on walking past, said goodbye nice and politely and properly.

No. He shouldn't have been there in the first place. He should _not _have felt the need to go and talk to that boy. It wasn't Damon's fault that Anna had died, it wasn't his fault the kid had lost someone, and so why would he go? Even if it had been his fault, he should not have wanted to help.

That house was a death trap.

He ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier than it had been a moment ago. He was reaching out for the door, when a noise permeated his alcohol-fogged mind, and he whipped around.

A dark haired woman stood there, head tilted slightly to the side, a smile on her lips. After a brief hesitation, he flashed forward, seizing her by the throat and throwing her bodily against the wall of the house. He held her there, laying his forearm across her jugular and leaning heavily.

"Hello, Damon," Isobel said sweetly, despite the pressure on her throat.

He glared at her through the hair hanging into his eyes, the bleary, bloodshot eyes making him look more than a little deranged. "I have been having a really bad day, Isobel," he hissed. "And unless you can give me a very -" he grabbed a handful of her hair, holding her head in place painfully when she started to roll her eyes. " - _very _good reason why I shouldn't, I am going to rip you to apart right here." He glared right into her eyes, getting in her face viciously.

"Because I didn't kill _you_," she said smoothly.

His lip curled in disdain. "Uh, uh. You gave the device to John, knowing what he would do with it. _If _you weren't counting on that fact. That gets you _nothing_, sweetheart."

"Because I came here for help," she said, suddenly cold.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

She smiled broadly, her mood apparently taking another turn. "Maybe I missed you."

He pulled his arm away, a disgusted look coming over his face. "What do you want, Isobel?" he snapped.

"My, aren't we testy today?" He didn't say anything. "But fine, if you're not going to play. Katherine's in Mystic Falls."

"Wow, really? I had _no _idea. You can go, now that you've delivered that thrilling piece of news." He got up and started walking toward the door.

"She took Alaric," Isobel said without turning around.

Damon glanced back. "Why?"

"Because she's angry with me."

"So, naturally she takes the teacher as bait," he said offhandedly. "But I don't see how you can possibly think I'll help you. You see, I'm _guessing_ you and John planned to take out my brother and I, yes?" He took her silence as assent. "I'll find him on my own." He gave her a tight, cold smile and walked into the house, leaving the door open. She stood in the doorway, but didn't really follow him in.

"Maybe Stefan will be more amiable."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Damon muttered, pouring himself another drink. "Our great, white, knight riding in to 'save the day'. Why didn't you go to him first?"

"I wanted to keep her out of this."

Damon went suddenly still.

"You know he'll tell her as soon as he knows where she is," Isobel was continuing in a slightly disgusted tone. "And I _don't_ want her near Katherine. We can go right now. She'll never know, and she'll never be put in that situation."

He was silent for a long moment, before he spoke in a deathly quiet voice.

"Where is she?"

* * *

Alaric sat up with a jerk, blinking blindly in the darkness. He could feel the cold, rough stone beneath his fingertips, and the air was musty against his face. Wincing, he walked his fingers over the back of his skull, feeling dried blood there, where Katherine had knocked him out. She'd run him out somewhere - he couldn't tell where, it had been too fast and too dark - and then, as soon as they'd stopped, she'd cracked him in the head. He tried not to think about Jenna's horrified expression, or the likelihood of Katherine going back for her, and so considered his circumstance.

There was a tiny glimmer of light in the upper right corner of his vision, but when he looked, he couldn't see anything there. He didn't feel injured anywhere else on his body, nor did he feel any bite marks

"Great," he muttered under his breath.

"On the bright side," a voice commented from somewhere to his right. "She hasn't killed you yet."

Alaric's head whipped around, trying to peer through the shadows, but his eyes hadn't adjusted yet.

"John?" he asked incredulously, recognising the voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I was kidnapped by a psychotic vampire bent on torturing me for information, what do you think I'm doing here?" he asked bitterly.

As Alaric's eyes began to adjust to the dimness, the hunched figure of John was visible, against the wall to the right of himself. John's face was grey and tired, with dark circles under his eyes. Despite the snarkiness, John wasn't his usual self.

"Have you been down here the entire time?" Alaric asked. Despite everything he had against the man for the things that happened with Isobel, he could see the misery and pain written on his face. That, and the bloodstains on his clothing were hard to look at with sympathy.

"Yeah," he answered, his eyes travelling around the small, dank basement. "And somehow I don't think I'll be leaving any time soon."

"Of course," Alaric muttered suddenly. "You were working with Isobel, for the device. No wonder Katherine went after you."

John flashed a sharp look over at him before looking away again. "Yeah, well, unfortunately for her, I make a point not to keep ties with vampires."

"So, you don't know where Isobel is?"

"No," he sighed.

"Do you know why Katherine wants her?" Alaric pressed.

"Revenge." He deliberately said it in a light tone of voice. "For both of us."

"Why?"

"For trying to do this town a favour. For trying to get rid of vampires. For trying to protect our d-" He broke off before the word completely formed, but Alaric caught onto it.

"What?" he said slowly in disbelief, before comprehension spread across his face. "You." He laughed without humour, the sound more startled than anything. "It was you, wasn't it? You're Elena's father." He rolled his head back, staring upward at the dark ceiling with a bemused expression. Of course it was John. Now that he looked at it, the truth had been screaming at them from the beginning. That explained the extra hate for vampires, as well, once you considered Isobel. Alaric felt a surge of sympathy for Elena as he realised they might never resolve their issues, especially with the company she kept.

John still hadn't answered, but he didn't need to.

"And you still went after the Salvatores?" Alaric demanded suddenly, looking over at him.

"They're vampires, Saltzman," John said with asperity. "Killers. They shouldn't be around her."

"Moral superiority. Kind of interesting coming from you." Alaric scooted across to the left, leaning his back up to the wall.

"I was protecting my town," he said quietly, but hotly. "No matter what you say, I did what I had to. I was defending my home."

Alaric didn't respond to that, and they both lapsed into silence, sitting apart in the darkness.

* * *

Elena hurried into the house, panicked and flustered. Jenna was waiting for her in the kitchen, her face white and her mouth set in determination. As soon as she spotted Elena, she rushed forward, her wide eyes flashing between Elena and Stefan behind her.

"_What _is going on, Elena?" she demanded.

Elena took a deep breath, exchanging a glance with Stefan before turning back. "What happened?" she asked in a low voice.

"I was with Alaric, leaving the hospital, and we pulled up at his house, and you were there, but... that she wasn't dressed like you, and... She took Ric," she said quickly, exhaling heavily. "She just grabbed him and vanished. I know that couldn't have been you, whoever that girl was, she wasn't you. But unless there's someone out there who happens to look exactly like you - and I mean _exactly - _than I don't see what's going on." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. "You have to tell me what's going on, here."

Elena stared at her Aunt for a long moment, indecision warring with guilt in her eyes. She'd always felt bad about keeping secrets from her family, but she knew that it was best for them. Like she'd told Mr. Saltzman, it would be so much worse if they knew. But now, with Jeremy finding out, and Bonnie knowing everything, it felt wrong to have Jenna in the dark. Everyone lied to her, Elena knew. Mr. Saltzman did, Elena and Jeremy did, John did.

It hadn't been an issue before now. Everything they did seemed to avoid her, mostly, and they could always keep her out of the way if anyone was coming to the house. Katherine was worse than that, though. She had seen Jenna now, and Jenna had seen Katherine. Elena couldn't sweep this all under the rug, pretend that it was all just a funny coincedence.

She glanced back at Stefan again, who nodded minutely, his expression serious.

"Jenna," she said slowly, unwillingly. "I have to tell you some things, and you're not going to like what I have to say."

"Just... talk to me, Elena. Please."

**Sorry if the John-Alaric situation isn't accurate, I wasn't sure if Alaric knew about John and Isobel yet, but I ran with my version. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't own vampire diaries. **

"This is insane!" Jenna exclaimed for the third time. "You expect me to believe that Ric's disappearance has something to do with... vampires and weird... centuries old look-alikes?" Her voice was beginning to climb up through the octaves.

"I know that it sounds crazy," Elena said pleadingly. "But I swear, it's the truth. Jenna, it's all true. It was Katherine that you saw with Mr. Saltzman, not me."

"And she happens to look exactly like you."

"Well... yes. I'm her descendant, that's why we look the same. She had a child before she was turned. Or," she said unsurely as Stefan. "That's what we think, we've never actually... asked her."

"Turned into a vampire, you mean," she said, looking away in disbelief and rubbing her hands over her face.

"Yes. I know this is hard, but I can explain _everything _later."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, you have to tell me now. Why haven't you told me this before? How could you keep something like this from me? You've think you've been seeing some kind of..." She trailed off, gesturing aimlessly over at Stefan, who was standing slightly apart from the scene, respectfully.

"No, Jenna, I told you," Elena said quickly. "Stefan and Damon, they're not like Katherine, they're good, okay?"

"Well, how am I supposed to know if I'm talking to you right now, or if it's Katherine?"

Elena sighed. "It's me, I swear." She held up the necklace from her neck. "This is vervaine, and so she can't wear it. It's me, Jenna. Really."

"What about the other day, then?" she said accusingly, and Elena grimaced, knowing what her Aunt was talking about.

"Uh... no. That was me, as well. But that's not the point. We _have _to go and find Katherine now, and you have to go back to Mr. Saltzman's house. She doesn't have an invitation there."

"Fine, but you're coming with me," she said stonily.

Elena had to hold herself back from screaming in frustration. "I'll be fine! I'll be with Stefan. I won't get hurt. Really."

"How am I supposed to know that? I saw what that... woman did to Ric, okay?"

"Jenna," she groaned. "Please, you're just going to have to trust me!"

"Trust you?" Jenna exclaimed incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me. You've been lying to me for _months _about this, and now you want me to trust you?"

Elena reeled, the hurt gathering in her throat from the accusation in her Aunt's voice. Everything she'd done and said to keep them out of this world was to protect her family.

Stefan stepped in. "Jenna, Elena's actions probably protected you up until now. It kept you out of harm's way."

She seemed to cool down slightly. "Where are you going to go, then?" she asked, looking only at Elena. She hadn't really looked at Stefan directly since Elena had revealed his true nature.

"We're gonna get Damon, and we'll find Mr. Saltzman. And John."

"_John,"_ Jenna demanded. Guilt twisted Elena's expression, her forehead crumpling. "John is in on this, too?"

"Uh, no, not exactly," Elena hedged. "We think he's been taken by Katherine already. They should be together."

"Should be?"

"Jenna, it'll be fine. We're going to find them both, and bring them back home but you _have _to go back to Mr. Saltzman's house while we're gone. Please, Jenna."

Jenna sighed deeply. "Fine, fine. But if you don't tell me _everything..._" She trailed off ominously.

"I know." Elena reached forward and hugged her tightly.

"Stay safe," Jenna told her quietly by her ear. "Or else."

"You, too."

Elena exchanged a glance with Stefan as Jenna left, and he nodded slightly, disappearing behind her. He'd make sure she got on the way safely.

Elena pulled out her cell phone, scrolling straight down to Damon's number and hitting call. She started gathering her things as it rang, grabbing her coat and scarf. It was only when the voice mail beeped at her that she realised he hadn't answered. She waited a couple of seconds before trying again. There was no answer.

She called Stefan instead, waiting by the door and leaning against the archway. He picked up almost immediately.

"Elena, what is it?"

"Damon's not picking up," she said worriedly.

"Well, we can go and pick him up. He probably just doesn't have his phone on him."

She bit her lip, frowning slightly. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks." She hung up, a worried line appearing between her brows.

* * *

"Look, if you can't do this," Isobel began coldly, before Damon grabbed her throat, throwing her bodily away from him.

"I'm fine," he snapped.

"Hey, I know this place has personal meaning for you, Damon. It's okay if you're feeling a bit... sentimental."

"Yeah, this a real moving moment for me." He gestured to the wreckage in front of them by the creek. "I'll just take a moment for myself, if you don't mind."

They stood beside the bank of the creek, looking over at the structure before them, the wooden planks forming the ruined framework of a building. He pushed aside the memories of this place forcibly, banishing the images of Stefan and that girl, the first girl.

Mouth tightening, he darted forward, standing beneath the wooden supports and staring down at the ground beneath his feet. The slabs of stone were uneven and faded, the edges overlapping.

Isobel joined Damon, following his gaze before leaning down and grabbing one of the blocks, flinging it out far out behind them, into the trees. They bother peered down into the gap, the pitted and rough staircase now visible beneath them.

Isobel smiled smugly at Damon, whose mouth twisted to the side wryly.

"What do you want, a lollipop?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow in a mocking expression. Smirking to himself, he kicked aside the other stones, which came aside easily - they had already been pulled out and replaced again. This was definetely the place, he thought, crouching slightly as he looked down.

Without a passing glance to Isobel, he dropped down onto the stairs beneath. It was bigger than it seemed from the outside. A couple of metres in was an iron door, fitted tightly to the sloping stone walls.

Damon didn't waste any time. He darted forward and, smashed his foot into the door. There was a satisfying snapping sound, and the door bent slightly inwards off it's hinges, revealing just a corner of the dim room beyond. He exchanged a glance with Isobel behind him before dragging the heavy, creaking door open.

Isobel was the first inside. She flashed past Damon as soon as the gap widened enough for her to get through. With an annoyed expression, he followed after her a second later.

Isobel's gasp reached him just before he entered the room. His eyes took in the details of the scene before him before he actually realised what was happening. There were two bodies laying unconscious on the muddy ground - John and Alaric. He couldn't tell which one was injured - his glance was too brief - but the smell of blood hung heavy in the room.

Isobel's back was facing him, the only part he could see. She was still standing, but just the point of a stake was visible from the centre of her back, peeking out of her jacket for a second before it vanished, pulled out from the other side.

Her body slumped to the ground, her skin already hardening and greying before his eyes. Damon's mouth tightened as his gaze shifted up as, while she fell, Katherine's slight figure behind her became visible. Her expression was almost curious as she watched the woman crumple before her. And then she pounced.

Damon's skull cracked painfully against the wall behind him as she knocked into him, her arms pinning his. She pressed her face against his neck, ignoring his attempts to strain away from her and breathed deeply. His lip curled up in a sneer as she pulled away, looking into his face and smiling with an imitation of nostalgia.

"Damon," she said warmly, tossing her hair back slightly. "What are you doing here?" There was an undercurrent of threat in the question.

"That door wasn't locked, was it?" he said with a sick smile, still struggling away from her. He didn't look directly into her face at all as she spoke.

Katherine ignored him. "You know I don't like being interrupted," she continued. "And why are you with Isobel?" She glanced back at the body behind her with casual disdain. "She undermined me. She tried to take what's mine."

His gaze slid down, and he stared angrily into her eyes. "Yours?" he hissed. "I'm not yours, you selfish, manipulative, _lying _bitch."

Her smile vanished, her expression turning cold. She leaned up and pressed a hard kiss onto his mouth, anger sparking in her eyes, too. "You'll always be mine, Damon Salvatore. You and your brother. You should understand that by now."

"Then why'd you leave?" he demanded, still angry. "You give _such _a damn about us, and then you just piss off for almost a hundred and fifty years? Just how gullible do you think I am?"

She gave low laugh. "I know better than anyone how gullible you are, Damon." He thrashed against her, but she held fast, a horrible smile building on her face. "But I'm back now. And there are all sorts of things we have to catch up on..."  
His expression twisted in disgust as she raised her mouth to his again, and he turned his head out of her reach. She looked closely into his face with a cold expression, before casting a glance over her shoulder at Isobel again, and then over at the two humans in the room.

"No," she said quietly, her eyes moving slowly up to his. "Is it _her_? That bothersome little girl with my face?" She suddenly became still, and her voice became deathly quiet. "You came here to help _them_? These filthy, traitorous _humans_?" She tilted her head toward Ric at her feet.

He stared her down unfalteringly, his derisive expression still fixed in place.

"Look at you," she whispered in a disgusted voice. "Did you really think you could be a _hero?_ Did you think _she _would -"

At that moment, he yanked his arm free, knocking her back before flitting over to corner of the room, diving for the bloody stake that Katherine had thrown aside.

But his back was to her for a split second. Eyes bloody, Katherine plunged the weapon into his back, hissing past her extended fangs. His back bowed slightly, and his expression twisted in pain before he fell back against the ground. The stake fell out of his lax grip, rolling across the slanted ground into the wall.

* * *

"Thanks for coming, Bonnie," Elena said sincerely, smiling and stepping aside to allow her best friend into the house.

Bonnie sent a wary glance in Stefan's direction before turning and returning Elena's smile.

"It's fine. You said you needed my help?" she asked. They walked through to the kitchen, sitting down at the dining table. Almost unconsciously, Bonnie sat at the opposite side of the table from Elena and Stefan, clasping her hands together on the table. Her expression was all business, not the same face of the person Elena had known before.

"Yes," Elena said unsurely. "I wanted to know if there's a spell you can do..." She trailed off with an uncomfortable expression, exchanging a glance with Stefan next to her.

Bonnie broke the tension. "What kind of spell?" Her voice was calm, collected.

"Well, I don't know if you can, but we're trying to find Mr. Saltzman. And John. We think they're together if that's any help, if that makes it... easier." She seemed to realise she was babbling, and fell silent.

With a slight nod, Bonnie leaned down and pullled Emily's spellbook out of her bag, opening it against the table. "I think I saw something in here about a locator spell..."

A ringing suddenly pierced the air, and Elena pulled her phone out of her pocket with an apologetic expression.

"Hello?"

She pressed the phone to her ear suddenly, getting up from the table and, with a quick gesture, left the room. Bonnie looked coolly over at Stefan as she turned a page.

"Where's your brother, Stefan?" she asked in a reserved tone.

"I don't know." He was impeccably polite, despite her coldness. "We haven't been able to reach him."

Her chin lifted so she could meet his gaze squarely. "I suggest you keep better track of Damon's activities from now on," she said ominously. "My warning still stands. If he's started hunting again..."

"He hasn't," Stefan said in a sure voice. "And I haven't forgotten."

"Good."

Elena walked into the room during the awkward silence that followed, but she didn't seem to notice. She was looking down at her phone as she sat down.

"That was the hospital," she said, breathing deeply.

Stefan took her hand gently in both of his. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. They were just calling to say that he's going to be fine." She flashed a smile around the table, but it was forced. "Did you find anything?" she asked Bonnie, taking a deep breath.

She nodded. "A locator spell. I should be able to find them, but I'll need a map from you. I've got the rest here." Elena nodded mutely.

In a few short minutes, Bonnie was set up - the map was in the centre of the table, and she had candles set up in a square around it. Elena and Stefan stood aside while she closed her eyes, spreading her hands flat against the paper beneath her.

"You should probably turn off the light," Bonnie told them without opening her eyes, and Elena rushed over to switch off the overhead. The candles threw odd shadows around the room, adding to the sense of mystery.

There wasn't as much theatrics as there had been when Bonnie had pretended to deactivate the device. The candles flickered slightly, and the air became slightly warmer, but that was it. The greatest change was simply Bonnie herself.

Her expression became frighteningly blank for almost a minute, and her body seemed to become suddenly weightless, her arms relaxing completely.

After a long minute, she opened her eyes and tapped a spot on the map confidently. "Here."

"Are you sure?" Stefan asked, moving over to see where she was pointing. Elena peered over Bonnie's shoulder, too, her forehead creasing.

"Isn't that where..."

"I know," Stefan said, exchanging a significant look with her. "It is."

"What is it?" Bonnie asked. She looked between them suspiciously.

"That's near Willow Creek, right? It's where... its just a place we've been before," she amended, realising that neither story she had of the spot was going to put Bonnie at ease. Her nagging worry came back suddenly as she thought of Damon.

"Hey, Bonnie, does that spell work for everyone?" Elena asked suddenly.

Stefan look puzzled behind her, but she didn't explain. Bonnie's expression, however, turned stony.

"If this is about Damon..." she said warily, and then sighed heavily as she saw Elena's sheepish expression. "No. I don't want you around him, Elena. He is a _killer, _and I am not going to help you find him."

"Bonnie, please, I just want to know that he's okay."

"And that's the problem," Bonnie exclaimed before visibly calming herself. She looked tired. "I'm sorry. I will do whatever I can to help you with Mr. Saltzman, and your uncle, but I am not going to help you with him."

She swung her bag over her shoulder, grabbing the spellbook and holding it to her chest. "If you need my help with... whatever it is you plan to do, then call me." She started to walk away, and then turned back slowly. "You should know. I haven't done that spell before, but I think that there was someone with him. I don't know who it was, but I could feel someone else there."

With those foreboding words hanging in the air, she turned and walked away.

**Sorry for the replacement chapter, but I felt I should add that the place mentioned where Alaric and John are held is supposed to be the ruin in Blood Brothers, where Damon turnes originally. **


	6. Chapter 6

**I don't own vampire diaries. **

A sharp pain in his side broke into Alaric's fogged mind, tugging at his consciousness. He was starting to sink down into the black again when the pain hit once more, in the same spot. He opened his eyes, and an annoyed voice reached him.

"Come on, wake up, Jeff."

He opened his gummy eyes, sitting up. His head felt thick and hazed, heavy on his shoulders. He tried to think back, but the voice broke in again. This time he recognised it.

"Ric!" Damon said loudly.

He pressed the heels of his palms against his scratchy eyes, holding them there for a moment.

"Damon?" he asked confusedly. "Why are you here?"

Damon laughed; the sound was tinged with pain. "You're completely stoned, aren't you?" he muttered. "Don't know what example you're setting to your students... Just say no, Ric."

Alaric blinked. More alert, he shook himself slightly and turned in the direction of Damon's voice, not yet convinced he wasn't a hallucination.

Damon was in the corner of the small cell, slumped sideways against the stone wall with weariness written all over his face. Alaric half-crawled, half-stumbled over to him, bracing his arm agaisnt the wall and looking at the vampire before him.

"What is it? What happened?" he asked worriedly. "You look horrible."

"Yeah. Now that you mention it, there was something I wanted your help with." Groaning, he shifted around to turn his back toward Alaric, his expression twisting in pain.

"Oh," Alaric said slowly, looking at the large, steel syringe in his back. It seemed larger than normal size, and was inserted far into the middle of his back. "Right."

"Yeah, so if you could just... pull that out. That would be good."

Alaric chose not to mention that his vision was still hazy and wrapped his numb fingers around the end of the dart. With a single jerk, he pulled the dart out of his back, staring at the point. It was at least twice the size of the rest of the syringe, and the entire thing seemed to have been embedded in his torso.

Damon groaned in pain and relief, shifting back against the wall. "Ugh, I think you nicked my spinal cord on the way out," he grumbled, letting his eyes close for a moment.

"You'll live." Alaric tossed the needle aside casually. Even in his current state, Damon still managed to send him a mocking look. "Well... you know what I mean."

"Yep. I wouldn't worry. I don't think political correctness applies to the dead," he smirked.

Alaric shook his head slightly. "What happened to you?"

"You might say I wasn't quite as... _polite_ as Katherine had hoped," Damon mumbled under his breath.

"What are you even doing here?" he asked confusedly.

"I'm your rescue mission," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. "We're all saved."

"Oh. Is that vervaine?" he guessed, looking over at the dart again.

"Yeah." Damon shifted a little, uncomfortably. "A lot of it."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Fine," he snapped. "But things might get a little, shall we say, _interesting _later, if I don't get blood soon." His tone was mocking, but the warning was real. He nodded over at John's still body. "He's been drugged, too?"

"I think so. It's a little uncertain, still."

After a brief moment's consideration - and with a lot of effort - Damon nodded at the dart by the wall. "Throw that at him, wake him up." He looked pointedly at John.

"What? No," Alaric said indignantly, frowning in disbelief.

"Oh, go on. I can't do it, can I? He'll thank you when he doesn't sink into a drugged-out coma."

"Somehow I don't think he will."

"You didn't seem to mind when I got you awake," Damon said, almost shrugging.

Alaric thought about the bruise he could feel forming on his ribcage. "You kicked me awake, didn't you?"

Damon just smirked to himself, before his eyes started to slide closed again. Then, suddenly, they flew open, a split second before the door opened.

"Hello, pets," Katherine greeted them cheerfully, casually kicking Damon back down as he moved aggressively toward her. "Calm down, lover."

She placed herself in front of the door. "I was just making sure you hadn't died on me. That would be... inconvenient, considering."

"Considering what?" Alaric asked warily.

"I'm glad you asked," she said, pretending sincerity. "Considering I'm really hoping you kill each other. One at least. Why else would I lock two vampire hunters and a starving vampire in a dark, little room? Except for my own amusement, obviously."

Cold stares greeted her delighted look.

"Fine. You'll end up playing eventually. And soon there'll be more players," she whispered happily, before she turned and left, closing the heavy door behind her.

* * *

"Stefan, I'm going with you," Elena said for the dozenth time. Her annoyance was beginning to seep through her voice. "I can wait on the sidelines, or something, I don't have to go in. But I promised Jenna that we'd bring them both back, and..."

Stefan ran his hands over his face wearily, turning to face her in the car. "I know you want to help, Elena, and I know that that's who you are. But you _need _to try and take care of yourself, and stay safe. It's too dangerous this time," he entreated. "Katherine is stronger than I am, even if I do get Damon's help. You could get hurt."

"I'll be fine. I won't even be in the way. I just... _have _to be there. Can't you understand that? I can't just go in there, not knowing what's happening, not anymore." She pointed out through the windscreen at the house before them - Alaric Saltzman's house. They were both sitting in the car out the front, while Jenna stood in the doorway, waiting for Elena to come inside. That was the plan that Jenna and Stefan had agreed upon during the day. It was just starting to hit evening, the orange-pink light almost ironically beautiful, considering their plans for the night.

Elena was less keen on the idea.

"I know that," he said patiently. "It's just not that simple. You can't be anywhere near her."

"That's what I'm saying, I don't have to be near her really, I just want to be... there." Her tone was optimistic as she tried to reason with him, her expression hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Elena. I just can't take you with me. Please. I only want to keep you safe."

She faltered, caught by the sudden pain in his voice. She looked down, her eyebrows pulling together before she shook her head slowly.

"I can't stay here," she whispered, looking pleadingly at him. "I can't do it."

He looked at her for a long moment, and then his jaw tightened. "You can't leave this car, do you understand?" he said in a low voice. "You have to promise me that."

"Okay," she agreed quickly.

"No matter what?"

"No matter what." She smiled timidly. With a slightly groan, Stefan started the engine again, quickly reversing out of the driveway. Jenna took one step out of the doorway, a startled expression on her face as they sped away.

* * *

Damon's teeth ground together, his gums tingling as his other nature threatened to take over. His face was white and cold, his jaw clenched tightly as his patience wore down.

"John, I swear, if you don't stop with the bitchy cheerleader looks, you're going to know the taste of your own jugular."

"Please," John muttered derisively. "You're only embarrassing yourself by making threats; you can't even stand up!"

"Who says I need to?" Damon challenged. "I'm just going to have to get a little more... _creative_." His voice dropped to a menacing whisper on the word.

"Right. You're a parasite, Salvatore, and you're going to die like one." His voice was calm, nonchalant.

"Don't be rude, John."

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't toss you into the harsh light of day, Damon. Just one."

Damon was suddenly less amused. "Because, even weakened by vervaine, I am still your only chance of getting out of here in one intact piece," he growled. "You should show me some _respect_."

"Okay," Alaric interjected wearily. "Enough." He had his arm thrown over his eyes, having listened to them bickering since John had awoken nearly an hour ago. Each time he tried to intervene, they simply ignored him.

Like now.

"You know, you're awfully righteous for a murderer," Damon said conversationally, but anger wound through his voice.

"I could say the same of you."

"Oh, of course you could. I've killed dozens - hundreds of people maybe, by now," he said thoughtfully, almost to himself, before getting back to topic. "But I'm a vampire. I don't feel any of that human emotion when I kill - it's natural for me. It's sustenance."

"I hope this is coming to a point," John said in a bored voice.

"The point is, I wonder how _you're _doing with it all. All that guilt, just bubbling under the surface..." His icy blue eyes were fixed on John's, scrutinizing him coldly.

"I don't feel guilty for what I did. I killed those monsters to protect my town."

"And that excuse never gets old, does it," Alaric murmured under his breath, momentarily forgetting he was supposed to be acting as referee between the two.

"What about the mayor?" Damon asked in disbelief.

John looked away. "He was a monster, too. Or the device wouldn't have had any effect on him."

"You're probably right. To tell you the truth, I don't know what the hell he is. But he wasn't a vampire. Wasn't evil, either, as far as I was aware. Past the maniacal mob mentality you share with him. He was killed in there, you know," he continued in a captivating tone. "Not by the fire, either, but by one of the hungry, angry vampires you stowed in there with me."

"Enough, Damon," Alaric said quietly.

Damon ignored him. "And then there's Anna. You can't blame that one on your lovely protective nature. Having her in the fire, you had to come down and stake her yourself. You had to _feel _her die. Your nephew's girlfriend." He made a tsking noise with his tongue, shaking his head slightly.

"She was a vampire!" John hissed, and a satisfied look appeared on Damon's face, now that he had gotten a reaction. "He couldn't stay with her!" He tooka deep breath. "He'll get over it. He knows it was for the best."

An evil light kindled in Damon's eyes, and he glared coldly over at him. "You've missed some things, John, while you've been gone. Jeremy is in hospital for a suicide attempt."

John's angry expression faltered slightly, but Damon continued relentlessly.

"Actually, it wasn't a suicide. He was trying to turn himself. Would you have killed him, too?"

"Stop it," Alaric said loudly, looking at the seething John first, and then back at Damon. "This is what she wanted - for you to go at each others throats." Damon cast him a disgusted look at the unintentional pun. "So you two need to put aside this little hostility match of yours and focus on getting out of here."

John subsided to sullen silence, anger still rolling off him in waves, but Damon turned to face him. "Okay, then, Ric. Please share. What have you go to bring to the table? Other than a cheerful optimism that makes me want to grab that stake, and -"

He stopped, shifting around to stare at the small wooden stake still sitting in the corner, and then back to Alaric, who had a hopeful expression.

"Say 'I told you so' and I _will_ bite you, Ric," Damon warned, but a smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

* * *

Stefan stepped out of the car in the woods, leaning down to peer in the car and send Elena a stern look.

"Stay here," he said in a low voice. Elena's mouth tightened, but she nodded, turning her eyes ahead to peer through the windscreen and through the trees ahead of her. She could just barely see the bank, but she couldn't see anything unusual.

"I don't see them there," she said at normal volume, knowing he would hear her. Outside, he turned around and shrugged before flashing forward, over to the structure in the distance, so that she couldn't see more than a little blur.

She started fidgeting, playing absently with her sleeves. She'd thought she could stay here, but she hadn't really thought about actually haven't to wait alone in the car. It was still better than waiting at home, not knowing anything, though. This way, she would see if something happened.

Suddenly, Stefan vanished. Elena waited a couple of seconds, but he didn't reappear anywhere in her vision. She could see the ruin over there, still, but nothing else.

"Stefan?" she called. "Stefan are you still there?"

She debated with her conscience for a moment before opening the door a crack. She half expected Stefan to show up right then, an exasperated look on his face. But he didn't. And so she got out, slipping slightly on the wet grass beneath her fet.

"Stefan?" she called again, walking slowly forward. "Stefan, are you here?"

A delighted laugh reached her ears, and then _she _was standing in front of her. There was no moment of bewilderment as Katherine appeared, tilting her head as she regarded her curiously. "Look. At. You," Katherine said slowly, a large smile building on her identical face. But the expression would never have been on Elena's face. "It's better than I imagined."

Elena took a step back, instinctual fear flowing through her. "Stefan?" she called again, more worriedly this time. "_Stefan!" _

Katherine nodded, like Elena had made a suggestion. "I agree. We _should _go see him together, shouldn't we? Have everyone together? You, me, Stefan, Damon..."

"Damon?" Elena said sharply, her eyes flickering around the clearing in confusion. "He's here?"

Katherine's expression didn't change, but there was a new light behind her formerly cold eyes. "Yes."

She darted forward, grabbing a handful of Elena's hair and jerking her head back viciously. A small gasp of pain escaped Elena's lips before she stopped it, and she pressed her lips together. Katherine leaned forward, putting her face right beside Elena's throat and inhaling deeply. Elena barely managed not to squirm in discomfort.

She pulled back again, a disappointed look on her face. "Just human," she confirmed. "I'd hoped that they wouldn't stoop that low, but there it is." She shook her head in mocking, ashamed way. "Oh, well. Come on, now," she said in a enthusiastic voice. "Let's go see our boyfriend."

Her fingers closed around Elena's neck, dragging her along viciously.

**a/n: I know Damon seemed kind of harsh in this chapter, but keep in mind that he already hates John because of his threats earlier to expose him, his and Isobel's attempt to kill him, everything with Elena and the fact that he was thirsty and trapped in a cell by Katherine. :) **


	7. Chapter 7

**I don't own vampire diaries!**

Alaric stood by the big iron door, poised with the stake in his hand while all three listening to the footsteps coming closer. Damon was standing, at least, but he still needed support from the wall, and so was against the back wall. His expression was drawn and pained though, and more than slightly angry.

He hated being weak; he wasn't used to being out of the action. He wasn't exactly the soldier riding in to save the day - hell, sometimes he was the bad guy in the scene, but at least that way he wasn't some staggering, shaking weakling in the background. At best, he could act as vampire fodder before the others got hurt.

At worst, he could collapse in a corner somewhere and die - like his body had been screaming to do for hours now. Luckily, he'd always had a pretty strong survival instinct. He wasn't going to become the tortured martyr his brother was.

There wasn't a delay; the door creaked slightly, and then it was suddenly out of the way. With a cry, John and Alaric pounced immediately. John leapt forward to grab the vampire's arms while Alaric brandished the stake, aiming for the chest with practiced accuracy.

"Wait!" Damon called tiredly. His expression was twisted in annoyance. "It's just Stefan."

They all froze. John was now halfway between pinning Stefan's arms behind his back, and Alaric was very close to plunging the wood into Stefan's heart. He suddenly stepped back, dropping the stake to a safer level with a muttered apology. With more disgust at touching the vampire, John pulled his hands back as well.

"We need to go," Stefan said tightly, walking over to Damon and looking at him him closely.

"Great, thanks," Damon muttered sourly. It was beyond humiliating to have his little brother burst in as their great big hero and rescue them all. He'd much rather have stayed in the cell. "What would we ever do without your brilliant insight?"

He shoved off from the wall, determined not be seen as weak anymore.

"Come on," Stefan said, grabbing his brother's arm and helping him along. "I have to get back quickly - Elena's waiting for me nearby."

"What?" The word came from three different mouths at the same time.

John got in first. "You brought _Elena _with you?" he burst out incredulously.

"Why the hell would you bring her near Katherine?" Damon demanded furiously.

"She's in serious danger out there," Alaric said in a low voice.

"Stefan!" Elena's voice echoed over to them from down the corridor, and their heads all snapped up. "Stefan, help me!"

He started to whip out of sight, but was suddenly backing into the cell, pulling Alaric and John behind him protectively. Katherine walked Elena into the room, her thin hand clamped tightly over Elena's mouth, holding her in front of her body.

"Stefan!" Katherine called again, her voice high and scared. Her lip curled up in anger as her eyes focused on Stefan's face. Her voice went back to her normal cold tone. "Go on. Help her, Stefan." She suddenly turned her face to press her cheek to Elena's, smiling. "He never tried to help me, did he? I mean, I never _really _got trapped like the others, but still, it hurts a little. He was the one that confessed all to that council, you know, Elena. Did he ever tell you that?"

Elena's wide eyes flashed from Katherine's face and then back to Stefan, panicked.

"Let her go," Damon growled, glaring fiercely at her. Alaric was on the balls of his feet, looking ready to join the fight at any moment. His eyes never left Katherine's face.

"Get your filthy hands off of her," John breathed, his face livid.

She chuckled slightly, sounded genuinely entertained. "This is so lovely, Elena. All your lovely male protectors, all just... itching to take my head off in your defense." She laughed again. "I mean, we've got our boyfriends over there -" She gestured to Stefan and Damon with a glance. " -your murderer of a father -" She met John's glare before nodding at Alaric, a smile on her face "- and your step-father."

Everyone of them tensed as she mentioned them, but her dark gaze zeroed back at Stefan, and Damon behind him. "Maybe I'll just kill you after all," she breathed by Elena's ear. "And make them watch." Elena started to squirm more violently, and Katherine tightened her hold. "Won't that be fun?"

"Katherine," Stefan said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. "You don't need her. If your angry with me, take it out on me. Not her."

"You're right."

She flung Elena across the room where she slammed into the stone, her head cracking loudly before she crumpled in a heap on the ground. A dark patch of blood slowly started gathering at the back of her head, beneath her hair.

Katherine rushed Stefan, slamming both of them into the wall. Her expression was terrifying as she snarled into his face, slamming her fist into his stomach repeatedly in the second. Then, with a curious tilt of his head, she opened her hand and splayed her fingers out. She struck, her fingers slicing straight into his chest, up to the knuckle.

A groan escaped his lips, and his expression twisted with agony as her fingers dug beneath his flesh, twisting and burrowing deeper.

Almost casually, Katherine kicked out behind her, catching Alaric in the stomach as he tried to thrust the stake at her, attacking from behind. She didn't release her hold on Stefan, as she deflected that attempt on her, dragging her hand up and curling her fingers beneath his skin and making him cry out again before slamming her fist into his jaw. His head snapped back on his neck, before she landed another punch. She continued her rapid onslaught, only taking a few seconds of her time before she finally drove her foot viciously into his knee with a cracking sound. With a pleased expression, she pulled her hand out, letting him slump to the ground senseless.

Damon's teeth sank into her neck, slashing and slicing at her flesh rather than simply piercing it. She shrieked more in anger than pain, driving her elbow into his stomach once before seizing his shoulders and flipping him over her shoulders in a flash and throwing him onto the ground.

"That wasn't polite," she tsked, standing over him. Almost as an afterthought, her bright, excited eyes slid back to Elena's unconscious form, the veins darkening around her eyes, and her fangs extending. Her gaze was hungry.

"Katherine!" John yelled suddenly, catching her attention before he stabbed her deep in the chest. She cried out in pain and panic, scrabbling at her chest for a second before she cut off suddenly, staring at the metal casing protruding from around her sternum.

"You idiot!" she spat, pulling it out easily. "There's not vervaine in that anymore. It won't do me any damage." With a flourish, she flashed forward, grabbing his shoulder as she plunged the point deep into his stomach. "It'll hurt you, though." She smiled and seized his hand as he began to sway, blood pouring out over his shirt. As he started to sink to the ground, she slipped the ring off his finger. "Goodbye, John."

She turned before he hit the ground, facing her last opponent. Her face twisted in annoyance as Alaric attacked again, hitting her solidly across the mouth before she returned the punch, sending him sprawling. He fell heavily into the ground, but managed to keep a hold of his stake, grimacing in pain.

"Why did you even bother? You never -"

Her voice cut off with a gasp as her head jerked back, bending back painfully far. Without pausing or releasing his hold on the back of her head, Damon jabbed the dart through her exposed throat.

"Ric," he choked, seizing both of Katherine's arms and jerking them behind her back while she gurgled past the metal in her neck. Her expression was shocked and horrified for the second that she stared back at Damon.

Then Alaric surged to his feet, rushing forward and driving the point of the stake home into her heart. She convulsed for less than a second against Damon's body, before they both crashed to the ground. Her skin turned cold and grey, the veins rising to the surface of her skin. Her brown eyes were open and staring at the dark ceiling, her look of shock still frozen on her features.

Damon lay sprawled, gasping for breath next to her body. Alaric kneeled beside him, rolling him onto his back and checking for injuries.

"I'm fine," Damon wheezed, waving away his assistance. "Check the others. Go."

Alaric walked over to where John lay, leaning down and pressing a hand to his neck. "He's still alive," he called over his shoulder. And then moved to the barely-conscious Stefan.

Damon wasn't listening. He'd rolled upright, and had half-crawled over to Elena, brushing hair out of her face. He carefully pulled her off the ground, setting her gently against him and looking over her skull. Sticky blood had run down her long hair, a long streak of red that had begun to dry there. After a moment, he let the brown locks fall back in place, turning her face toward him.

"Hey, Elena," he said, patting at her cheek softly. "Come on, wake up. You can't have a nap now. You might not wake up for a while, and you don't want to miss everything, do you?"

He kept on brushing at her hair, his fingers skimming across her cheek as he pushed the stray strands out of the way.

"No, you don't." He hooked his elbow under her head gingerly, bringing her face up. "Open your eyes, Elena," he whispered. "Or everyone's going to know you fell asleep during the big fight." A parody of a smile twisted his lips. "You don't want that now, do you?"

Her eyes fluttered slightly, her lips parting as she took a deep breath and sighed it back out. He took her chin in his hands, tipping her face up as she opened her eyes.

"That's my girl."

She blinked blankly for a few seconds, and then her forehead crumpled, her hand going to her skull.

"My head," she moaned quietly, squeezing her eyes shut again before falling limply against his shoulder. Over her head, Damon met Alaric's gaze, whose expression was unreadable as he crouched beside Stefan, helping the other brother to his feet.

Stefan, though he could barely stand, stumbled over to Elena, taking her out of Damon's arms and holding her close. She slumped against him weakly, her arms dangling by her sides.

Damon moved away, going over to Alaric and John. Alaric was sitting beside him, waiting.

"I put the ring back on," he told Damon quietly as he joined him. "Hopefully that'll fix the damage." He paused thoughtfully, inspecting the wound. "Actually, it doesn't seem that bad."

Damon nodded slightly, and then glanced over at Katherine's body. "Well done, Ric, by the way," he muttered. Alaric looked over in surprise at the praise.

"Thanks," he said, just a little bit warily. "You too. I didn't think you had it in you."

A wry smile tugged at the side of Damon's mouth. "I could say the same of you." Alaric returned the smile, the fading adrenaline in his system fuelling the exhilerated light in his eyes.

John groaned beside them both.

"John's up," Damon said loudly, without looking back as he addressed the others. With Alaric's help, they both grabbed John's arms, hauling him to his feet. Alaric started to drag them both forward, his arm around John's waist, when he paused, looking over at Damon, whose face was still drawn and grey. He thought that the vampire looked ready to collapse.

"Can you walk?" he asked bluntly.

Damon affected a nonchalant expression, snorting slightly under his breath. "Fine, I said. Vampire, remember?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Vervaine, remember?" Alaric returned, but he walked forward, taking John with him. Stefan and Elena went after him, though she looked barely conscious as her feet dragged along the ground. Stefan looked around at his brother questioningly as Damon didn't immediately follow.

"I'll be right behind you," Damon said, his expression neutral.

Damon waited until he was certain they were all safely out of the shelter, even though he couldn't hear. As he turned to look at the corpse behind him, some part of him vaguely thought that the stone must be soundproofed, or something.

He stared down at Katherine's body, and couldn't help but feel some sense of loss. Katherine had become a constant in his life, for the entirety of his undead life. And even the weeks preceeding it. For that time, it was love, and that continued for a long time after that. Then it was obsession.

And then, finally, hate. Anger. But she had still been out there. Some final confrontation that was waiting for him, an elusive and shadowed future closure.

Was that what this was? Closure? There was a certain irony in the situation, he could admit that. He'd pledged his life for her, and now it was his hands who had brought her to her final death. With the help of the history teacher, of all people.

Damon shook his head slightly to himself, looking tiredly down at that face. He didn't need her anymore. He didn't even want her. He should have regretted his part in what happened to her, he should have felt disgusted at the fact that he had probably saved at least one human life - one of his enemies, even. And he didn't.

His brow was furrowed as he stared at her for a moment longer. Then, with slightly trembling steps, he walked over to the back wall of the cell, and slammed his body into the stone with as much force as he had left. The stone cracked, and dirt and dust began to trickle down from the ceiling with increasing speed.

He hurried out of the room as quickly as his failing body would let him, the room and corridor collapsing behind him and burying Katherine's body in stone and dust.

Up on the surface, the others heard the rumbling and crashing from beneath their feet before Damon emerged from the staircase, falling to his knees in the grass. He swayed there, his eyes unfocused and glazed.

Elena was the one who staggered forward first, falling beside him as well and grabbing his shoulders.

"Damon," she breathed. "It's okay."

He smiled slightly, a sincere smile as he looked at her. "I know."

And then he collapsed.

"Damon? What's wrong?"

Alaric walked over to her, helping her to her feet and passing her back over to Stefan. John was standing on the sidelines, no longer needing assistance; he'd already healed.

"He needs blood," Alaric told Elena. "Soon."

Alaric dragged Damon up, unflinchingly slinging the bleary vampire's arm over his shoulder and supporting his weight and nodding at Stefan to continue. Elena, ignoring the cautions from both John and Stefan, moved to Damon's other side and put her arm around his waist, helping Alaric as they all moved slowly forward into the trees.

* * *

**a/n: I swear this isn't a scam for reviews or anything, but I thought I should check to see if people have any preference. I can either continue this story with some other ideas I've still got in my odd little brain, or I can wrap it up nice and neatly in a chapter or two from now, if people don't want me to drag it out too much. I won't be offended or anything if you want me to finish it now, and I don't mind either way. so feel free to tell me if that's what you'd rather :) **

**Thanks. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay, I guess I'm continuing :) thanks for the kind words, and I promise to have some more Delena-y bits. **

**Don't own vampire diaries. **

"It's okay," Elena whispered as she tightened her hold on Damon. "Come on, you're gonna be fine. It's okay. You're gonna be okay." She continued to murmur the words of comfort beneath her breath as they walked through the trees, and her eyes were glued to his pained expression, taking in each minute change.

Alaric saw out of the corner of his eye, the suspicion that had been growing in the back of his mind rising up again as she stared at him.

"We're going to get you back home, and you'll be okay," she whispered, but he wasn't sure she was really talking to Damon anymore.

"Damn," John muttered ahead of them.

"What is it?" Alaric asked.

John held up a blood-stained hand for inspection, staring at the shadowy ground beneath his feet. "Has anyone seen my ring?"

"You _lost _it?" He exchanged a glance with Elena, who swallowed and looked around the forest debris and litter at their feet. If it had fallen there, there was a very little chance that they would find it now. If ever.

"I didn't lose it," John retorted, annoyed. "It must have slipped off somewhere. It's not exactly on the forefront of my mind."

"It's okay," Elena said. Relief was plain on her face as she nodded ahead. "There's the car."

"Okay. Come on."

"What is that?" Stefan asked suddenly in a hushed voice. He turned his head, peering into the darkness of the woods around them.

"What's wrong?" Elena called.

"You don't smell that?" His head whipped around suddenly, and a little jump went through the rest of them.

"Will you stop that?" John muttered angrily.

Damon groaned suddenly, and his legs gave out beneath him as he collapsed again.

"Woah." Alaric eased him down to the ground, so that he was laying on his back. Just a sliver of white was visible beneath his eyelids. Elena kneeled down onto the wet ground beside him and pressed her hands to his cheeks, turning his face toward her.

"Damon? Are you okay?"

Damon's pale lips twitched in something like a smile. "... you were trying to stay away from me," he mumbled.

"What? What are you talking about?" Stefan moved over to stand next to them, and her head shot up suddenly, an expression of hope lifting her face. "I'll give him my blood," she said brightly. "It'll help him, right? He'll be okay?"

"It'll help him, yes," Stefan said guardedly. "But there'll still be the vervaine in his system. He has to rest."

"I know." She was already pulling back her sleeve, rolling it out of the way. She looked back down at Damon's face, her hair fallling like a curtain between them. "Here," she said softly, her wrist hovering by his mouth. "You have to drink, okay?"

His eyes opened slightly, but his expression twisted and he turned his face away.

"No, no," she whispered, turning him back to her and brandishing her wrist again. "It's okay, I want to help."

She pushed her wrist at him again, and his cold fingers grasped her forearm gently, bringing her wrist to his mouth. He pressed his lips to her skin softly, but that was all. His arm fell back to the ground, and he shook his head at her, lips tight.

"No." He mumbled something else, and she thought she caught the words 'not him'.

"Damon," Elena sighed in frustration.

"Nevermind," Stefan said quietly, leaning down and hauling his brother upright. "I'm okay now, I'll take him back to the boarding house." He exchanged a hooded glance with Elena before both of them vanished. She sat there for a second, her expression tight and worried.

"They'll be fine," Alaric said quietly, putting a hand on her shoulder briefly before helping her to her feet. "Don't worry."

John, who was watching the scene before him with a mixture of disgust and wariness, suddenly turned, a shadow passing out of the corner of his eyes. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Alaric asked, brushing dirt off him and moving to the car door. His expression turned to exasperation as he took in John's tense posture. "What, is it contagious?"

"John?" Elena asked, following his gaze. "What is it?"

"I don't know." He took a few steps forward, trying vainly to look through the trees. "But somehow I don't -"

There was a ripping snarl, and a huge, black shaped collided with John, knocking them both to the ground. Alaric pushed Elena behind the car, and stepped forward.

The beasts head rose, a deep growl buzzing from it's throat. The moonlight reflected off of it's yellow-brown eyes, and off the saliva dripping from it's teeth. It stared at Alaric, who had frozen, for a long second, before it took off, disappearing into the night again. They both stood frozen for a long moment, their short breaths loud in the silence, and then a gurgling sound broke into their panic.

John had crawled over to the car, and was leaning up against it. Three long, deep gashes split his clothes and his flesh, starting at his throat and ranging down to his stomach. Thick blood was spilling from the wounds, splashing out from his throat as he took in rapid, shocked breaths.

"John," Elena choked, her eyes wide and glazed with shock. Her hands hovered around his shoulders desperately, like she couldn't figure out what to do. Tears splashed on her cheeks helplessly, dripping straight off of her chin.

"Elena!" Alaric said sharply, trying to break through her shock. He yanked open the door, half-lifting, half-dragging John into the backseat and laying him down. He pressed his already torn jacket against John's throat, and then threw himself into the drivers seat, starting the engine.

"Get in!"

Elena jumped into the car as well, the car already moving as she slammed the door shut.

"What was that?" she demanded in a rough voice.

"I don't know!"

Elena twisted in her seat, staring at John in the backseat. The rumbling of the engine and the heartbeat in her ears made her head spin, and the world took on a surreal quality.

"He's not moving," she mouthed, wiping at her face. Her fingers left a smear of blood on her cheek in place of the tears. "He's not moving."

Alaric sped out of the woods, the car jolting around on the rough terrain and sending them both jumping around in their seats. He glanced back in the rearview mirror, and he saw the same thing Elena had; John wasn't moving. There wasn't any breath moving his shredded chest.

He glanced over at Elena. Her eyes were fixed on the darkness ahead of them, and she was pressed deep into the chair, her hands gripping the sides so hard that her knuckles had turned white. She could have been going into shock, he realised belatedly, looking at her glazed eyes and pale face.

"I have to go to the boarding house," she whispered suddenly.

"Elena," he said as gently as he could. "We have to go to a hospital, we have to -"

"I have to go to the boarding house."

"You're going into shock, you -"

There was a sudden, tearing gasp from the backseat, and John shot up. Elena screamed for half a second, whipping around. Her eyes were practically bugging out of her face. John was panting for breath in the backseat, his hands clutching at his clawed chest.

"What is going on?" Elena shrieked. No one answered her.

"Stefan!" Elena cried, crashing up the steps and bursting into the boarding house. "_Stefan!"_

He appeared in a whip of air, a strained expression on his face. He caught her as she fell into him, clutching at his shirt.  
"What is it?"

"It's John," she gasped. "I don't know what's wrong. I don't know what happened." Her breath was coming in short pants, and her face was cold.

"What's wrong with her?" he demanded as Alaric entered the house, looking over his shoulder.

"She's in shock, I think."

"Why?"

"Probably because of me," John said heavily, and he appeared behind Alaric, walking into the house with an expression of distaste. "Why did you bring me here?" He looked angrily over at Alaric, who ignored him.

Stefan deposited Elena onto the couch, where she put her face in her hands, sitting her head on her knees and breathing deeply.

Stefan could smell the amount of blood on the man in front of him, and forced himself to ignore the burning in him. "What happened?" He stared at the slashes in John's clothes, that were already dark with blood. But the glimpses of visible skin beneath those cuts was clear, whole. There was no sign of injury anymore. He was fine, Stefan thought somewhat confusedly.

"Something attacked him," Alaric said. "Some sort of animal." He turned his face toward Stefan suddenly, a wary expression on his face. "He doesn't have his ring on, Stefan," he muttered quietly. "How did he come back?"

"Come back?" Stefan asked incredulously, his eyebrows going up.

"I saw him, and he wasn't breathing."

Stefan's expression froze, and he turned slowly to face John behind him. His lips were tight as he fought to keep his expression neutral. Suddenly, behind him, Elena got up off of the couch, and started walking towards the stairs.

"I'm going to check on Damon," she said in a low voice. "Is he upstairs?"

"Yes. Down the hall from my room."

She nodded and, with a weak smile for Stefan, left the room. Stefan turned back to the others, his previously gentle expression turning grave.

Upstairs, Elena knocked quietly on the wooden door, before opening it and peering into Damon's room. He was laying on the bed, on top of the covers, fast asleep. Taking care to be extremely quiet, she crept in and closed the door behind her. Some part of her mind debated whether or not to cover him with something, but she decided she wouldn't take the risk of making him more uncomfortable.

She noticed there was a glass of blood sitting on the nightstand, full and untouched, and that there was a chair beside the bed, facing Damon. She guessed that Stefan had been there when they'd arrived, and a tiny flicker of panic went through her midriff, leftover from all the anxiety she'd felt tonight. Her hands and knees were still shaking from the adrenaline as she stepped carefully over to the bed and sat gingerly on the chair beside it.

Damon's face was oddly peaceful, as he slept. Elena could tell he wasn't dreaming either; his eyelids were still. There was something comforting in his steady breathing, too, and she found herself just watching his chest rise and fall rhythmically for a few seconds, letting his safety sink into her mind. She leant her elbow on the edge of the mattress, leaning her hand into her palm as she sat there.

"You're an idiot, you know," she breathed. She watched as her hand reached out, her fingertips settling gently on his chest.

"You're not the first person to tell me that," he muttered under his breath.

A large smile spread over Elena's face.

* * *

"John, I need you to tell me everything you remember from your time in the cell," he said in a low, serious voice. "Is there anything missing?"

John glared over at him. "I don't know," he said coldly. "There could be those times when I was dead."

"That's not all," Alaric broke in suddenly. "We were both knocked out, remember? Damon said we were both unconconscious. I hadn't really thought about it, but she must have drugged us both. The way I felt when I woke up..."

Stefan rubbed a hand over his mouth, his eyes going far away.

"What is it? What's going on?"

His eyes flicked to her before he addressed John, his voice sombre. "John. I think you've ingested vampire blood. You're beginning to turn."

All of eyes in the room swung to John's suddenly furious expression.

* * *

_Katherine slipped into the room, looking extremely pleased with herself. _

_"Come now," she said in a mockingly disappointed voice as she took sight of the two men on either side of the cell. "Shouldn't we be bonding in times of crisis right now?" _

_John glared viciously at her, before turning his eyes aside again, not even deigning to look at her anymore. _

_"Aren't you having fun yet, John?" A cruel smile bent her lips. _

_"What do you want, Katherine?" Alaric asked, ever the mediator. "We don't have anything to tell you." _

_"Oh, I know that," she said offhandedly. "But the others seem to be a little bit off the mark today; they aren't taking the bait. I'm upping the stakes." _

_"What are you talking about?" _

_Her expression shifted, becoming detached and blank. Her pupils stretched out, becoming deep circles of black in her eyes. Alaric froze, and John unthinkingly glanced back at her, getting caught in that gaze as well. _

_Katherine rolled back her sleeve deftly, and then slashed her fingernail casually across her forearm, near the wrist. She pumped her hand slightly, until the blood started to ooze out more freely over her skin. She crouched by John first, and then held the dripping cut to his mouth, tilting his head back calmly. _

_"Drink," she commanded, and he did. After a couple of seconds, she pulled her arm back, and then moved over to Alaric, repeating the process. The vampire blood was indistinguishable from the rest of the dirt and blood on their faces. _

_"There." _

_She pulled her sleeve back over her arm, and then caught their attention again, the compulsion becoming more intense. "You're going to forget this ever happened, and you're going to go to sleep. A very deep sleep. And you're not going to want to wake up. Understand?" _

_They both nodded dazedly. _

_"Good." _

_As she left the room, they thudded heavily to the floor, sprawled out awkwardly on the stone. _

**a/n: I know, things sound a little random in this chapter and sorry for that, but I needed to leave out the new stuff in the last chapter, in case I was stopping it early. Because I would have left out these parts, obviously. And don't worry, I plan to continue the cuteness with the Elena/ Damon scene.**


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: This chapter is kind of a filler, I know and sorry for that. I needed to set up for the next few events. Hope you like it anyway, I put a little more Delena in as promised. **

"Hey," Elena said softly, leaning slightly over to the bed to look into Damon's face. "How are you?"

He grimaced slightly, and then plastered a smirk on his face. "Peachy." Absently, he glanced down at her hand, which was still sitting on his chest. "It isn't going to start beating anytime soon, you know," he murmured, meeting her gaze with quiet curiosity. She let her hand slide off of him, clasping both hands together in her lap.

"Sorry," she muttered, looking down.

He waved a hand casually before his arm fell back against the bed tiredly. "Don't worry. Your bedside manner is impeccable."

He shifted suddenly, struggling to push himself up into a sitting position despite the obvious effort it took him. His lips were pressed tightly together as he strained, as if in pain. With an impatient sigh, Elena stood and pressed down on his shoulders, pushing him back down. Even so, he settled onto one elbow, propping himself up.

"Don't be ridiculous," she muttered, leaning over and handing him the glass of blood nonchalantly. He took a gulp from the glass before his eyes slid over to her beside him, trying to see her reaction. His face relaxed, and his mouth turned up at one side in amusement. Probably in an attempt at being subtle, Elena was looking him over carefully checking for any further sign of injury or tenderness on him as he lay there.

His blue eyes were warm as he watched her, and he took another sip to hide his smile.

"So?" she asked expectantly once she was finished her scrutiny, taking a deep breath.

"So?" He mirrored her tone.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I called you an idiot?"

"Aren't you going to tell me anyway?"

She shook her head, smiling wryly for a second before her expression faltered. "Why didn't you just take some of my blood back there?" she asked in a hesitant voice.

"Maybe you're just not as appetizing as you think you are," he teased weakly.

"Damon."

"You're right, I'm sorry." He groaned slightly as he reached over and put the empty glass back on the nightstand, and then leant back fixing her with a mock-serious stare. "It's all me; I'm picky."

"Damon."

He sighed heavily, and then took her hand in his, turning it palm up between them both while Elena watched curiosly. His eyes travelled along her wrist. Even though her human eyes couldn't make it out, he could see that faint blemishes over her skin where Stefan had bitten her. It hadn't truly scarred, but it was enough.

"I don't wanna be _him,_" he said derisively, nodding his head toward the rest of the house. He twisted his mouth in mock disgust. "It's bad enough I'm _related_ to Mr. Brood, I don't want to start to mimic him, too." He pretended to shudder, and she smacked at his arm lightly with her other hand, leaving her wrist in his possession.

"He's your brother," she reminded him, raising an eyebrow. "Be nice."

"_He _is a buzzkill." He waved a hand, silencing her when she opened her mouth to speak. "Don't even try and deny it."

"But you could have really hurt yourself," she protested again in a quiet voice, her eyes downcast once more. "I know you wouldn't drain me completely, and I don't think you'd try to hurt me. I trust you, Damon."

He waited until her eyes met his before he spoke, his voice soft. "I know. And that's why I didn't do it."

He held her gaze for a moment, smiling slightly, before he broke the silence; he was still holding her wrist, and he jogged it slightly, making her hand flop around playfully. She gave him a small smile in response.

Then, suddenly, he sat up with a slight gasp, making her frown worriedly again while he hands hovered helplessly. Turning his body toward her, he span his finger in a circle - gesturing for her to turn around.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

He rolled his eyes melodramatically, and then stiffly shifted back on the bed, patting the edge of the mattress. "Come here."

This time her voice was defensive. "What? No."

His expression clearly said '_Are you serious?'_ as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Believe it or not, this is one of those rare times when my intentions aren't completely selfish. Your head," he said impatiently, when she still didn't understand. "Since you're sitting here at my deathbed, I'm guessing you haven't exactly had it looked at. Besides. It's _you._" He shook his head with mock shame, and a small smile tugged at Elena's lips before she sat down on the bed, her back to Damon.

His hands were surprisingly warm as he gently brushed her hair over her shoulders, out of the way. She felt a vague tingling on the back of her skull as the strands moved, but not that much pain, really. It made shivers go up and down her spine.

"What are you doing?" she asked, fidgeting. The sensation of not being able to see what was happening was slowly driving her crazy.

"I'm planting roses back here, obviously. Stop moving," he said brusquely. He leaned around her, reaching for the drawer of the nightstand by her knee. She froze in surprise as his hand touched her shoulder lightly, holding her there while he moved around her.

"What are you doing?" she asked again, more flustered this time. His face was almost touching hers, and she couldn't help but notice that she could feel his body against hers as he leaned past.

"Calm down," he muttered near her ear, bringing out a bottle of amber liquid and shaking it in front of her face before he shifted back again. There was a muted ripping sound behind her, but he made a tsking noise before she could really turn around and see.

"Stay _still _will you?" Where she couldn't see, he sloshed some of the scotch onto the fabric and then paused, touching her shoulder again, carefully. "This is going to hurt, okay?"

She nodded, biting her lip just once before she firmed herself. "Okay," she said with deliberate calm.

Damon softly pressed the material to her head, holding it there for just a moment. Before setting it aside.

"Ow."

"Baby."

They both grinned, and Elena's eyes closed as she smiled, letting him look after her.

* * *

"No. _No," _John growled, nostrils flaring in his anger. The expression on his face was close to deranged, with the blood smeared around his jaw and cheeks and the fire in his eyes. He was beyond angry as he paced his short path across the room.

"I'm very sorry, John," Stefan said sincerely. "But you've already begun the transition. If we don't get you blood -"

"I would rather die." His voice was deathly quiet, and he glared openly at Stefan, whose expression was still drawn in sympathy.

"You don't have to kill anyone." Stefan put his hands up in appeal. "You can live on animal blood once you've turned, you don't have to -"

"No." A calm was spreading over John now, almost an emptiness. "I won't become one of you. I would gladly die to prevent another one from walking my town."

"You're being ridiculous," Alaric muttered. "You know that, don't you?"

Stefan threw him an exasperated glance before turning back to John. "Look, I know this is difficult, but this isn't just about you. Think of Elena," he said persuasively. "You're her father. Her real father. Think of what your death will do to her."

John laughed without humour. "_That's _your appeal? I saw what happened to Isobel. I'm not going to do that to Elena again. No."

"But -"

"You think having two vampire parents is going to help her somehow?"

"Well, then what about -"

The was a loud knock at the door, and the three of them froze. It was well after dark by now, and while it was technically still _acceptable_ for someone to call on the Salvatore house, it was extremely unusual. In the tense silence that followed, there was another bang on the door.

"Hello?" a female voice called. "It's Sheriff Forbes here. I'm looking for Damon. Is anyone in there?"

Stefan flashed over to the door, opening it a crack. "Hello, Sheriff," he said politely, but his voice was still strained. "Damon isn't actually here right now, and so if you could -"

She pushed past him into the house. "Do you have any idea where he is? Because now is not a good time for him to go AWOL on us." With a bitter smile on her face, she unfortunately turned, catching sight of John and Alaric in the next room. Her angry gaze focused on John, colour rising in her cheeks.

"You," she burst out, advancing on him and pulling a pair of handcuffs from her belt. "You are under arrest, John Gilbert, for assaulting - What the hell is this?" She looked down at the slashes in his chest with a startled expression.

"Sheriff, please -" Stefan began, but she cut him off.

"You have a lot to answer for," she hissed, cuffing John's hands behind his back.

"You don't understand," Alaric said.

"No, you don't understand," she said darkly. "If _any _of you impede this arrest, than you will be hauled in after him, alright?" She turned to look pointedly at Stefan. "When you see Damon, tell him I need to see him. As soon as possible."

John smirked smugly as she walked him out of the house, wrestling him into the police car outside while the others watched helplessly. Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"This is bad," Alaric said heavily. "Very bad."

"Yeah, I know."

"He's either going to kill someone or die in that jail."

"I know."

Alaric scrubbed both hands over his face, sighing deeply. "Why do I get the sick feeling that we're going to end up breaking that stubborn... man out of jail?" he asked in a weary voice. When Stefan didn't respond, he groaned slightly in frustration. "I've got to call Jenna." He walked into the next room, taking his phone out of his pocket as he went.

Stefan went upstairs, to check on both Damon and Elena. With a twinge of guilt, he belatedly recalled that Elena had been injured as well as his brother. and that they could both be in need of help.

He mentally berated himself for not thinking of it as he flew up the stairs, thoughts of concussion and infection and bleeding flickering through his mind as he did so. He couldn't hear the murmur of their voices anymore, so he knew that either Elena had left, or Damon had fallen asleep again.

He went quietly into Damon's room, and then stopped short. Damon _was _asleep, again, and so had Elena. He tried to control the sudden fire in his veins, breathing shallowly until it passed, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Damon was passed out cold, the marks of exhaustion on his face plain to Stefan's eyes. His torn short was half open, too, as if he'd tried to button it and given up halfway through. His skin seemed even greyer than before, and the weakness of the vervaine even worse, but his expression was relaxed. That probably had something to do with the girl half draped across him, Stefan thought bitterly.

Elena's head was pillowed on his brother's upper arm, and she was half-curled up around him with her hand resting just above his ribcage. Stefan breathed quietly for a moment, before rationality came back into his mind, and he took in other details in the room. A small square of linen was banaged to the back of Elena's head, and he could see random supplies strewn across Damon's bed - water, bandages, bloody towels and a small torch.

He paused, considering the possibility that the placement was completely innocent. Despite everything, he didn't want to think badly of his brother or of Elena, and he knew that she at least would not intentionally hurt him again.

And they both looked as if they'd simply collapsed there, he thought, convincing himself further. Despite that, he couldn't physically make himself look at them any longer.

He flitted over to Elena's side, brushing his fingertips gently from her temple to her chin so that her eyes opened slowly. She smiled gently in response, and started to sit up. He pulled her up into his arms instead, setting her head against his shoulder and carrying her out of the room.

"Damon," she murmured, and that poison started flowing again, burning up through his body.

"He's fine," he said darkly.


	10. Chapter 10

**It's long, I know. **

**I don't own vampire diaries!**

When Elena opened her eyes, she knew immediately that she was in Stefan's bed, but could not remember how she got there. The last thing she remembered was Damon bandaging her head, and then telling her a story about how he'd impersonated a doctor for a day after being caught in the blood banks.

She smiled to herself, remembering his insistance that _that _had made him qualified to take care of her injury.

She sat up, and heard for the first time the murmured voices outside the door. She couldn't tell for sure, but it sounded like Damon and Stefan were arguing. Fighting her way free of the covers, Elena padded barefoot over to the door, listening for a second before opening the door.

"... you got a better idea, then?" Damon's voice was muffled through the wood, but recognisable. "I've got influence in the council. I can go right now."

"Have you forgotten that some - if not all - of them could have seen you carted off with the tomb vampires during the founders day parade?" Stefan said. "It's too dangerous."

"I've got a better chance than _any of you _of getting him out of there... relatively unharmed, and you know it."

"We have to wait until we have a plan for this, Damon," Stefan said, in an even softer voice.

"Why don't I just go and tell Elena about all of this? I'm sure you'll think faster then."

Elena chose that moment to open the door.

"Tell me what?" she asked curiously. She wasn't really awake enough to feel that suspicious. Yet.

Damon looked aside exasperatedly; he'd obviously been bluffing about actually telling her anything. Stefan rubbed her shoulder in an oddly comforting gesture, looking closely into her eyes.

"I need to talk to you about something." His gaze slid to his brother, out of the corner of his eye. "Alone," he said pointedly, and then gestured to the room behind them. Behind his back, Damon smiled innocently and waved at Elena, who smiled in return before disappearing behind the door.

As soon as they were safely behind doors, Damon's playful expression vanished, excitement dancing in his eyes instead. He turned and darted own the stairs, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he did so.

"Hello?" came the tired voice on the other end.

"Hey, Ric, you up for some more fun?" He was already slinging on his leather jacket and heading for the door.

"Fun?" Alaric said in disbelief. "You call that fun? Oh, never mind." There was a slight scuffling sound. "What are you planning?"

"I'll give you three guesses."

"John?"

"Well, what do you know, you only needed one. Now get down to the police station, okay?"

He snapped the phone shut, and then paused, leaning beside the doorframe, his brow furrowed slightly. He scrolled down in the contacts, pausing at Elena's number for just a second. Then, with a glance upward, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and whipped out of the door.

* * *

"John's becoming a vampire?" Elena said hoarsely, sinking down onto the rumpled bed. "No. That's... not possible."

"I'm so sorry, Elena." Stefan kneeled down before her, looking up into her face with sympathy plain in his eyes. "I know that this must be difficult."

"Well, what are we going to do? He's in jail, too," she said to herself, taking a deep breath and sighing it back out.

"We don't know yet," he murmured gently, taking her hands in his own. "But I swear, we are going to get him out of there, and things will be fine."

She stood up, her fingers slipping from his absently as she started to pace the room. "How can it be? He's dying. And even if he doesn't die, he's going to become a vampire. I mean, first there's Isobel, and then Jeremy, and now John..." She trailed off, running her fingers through her hair.

"I promise, we can at least get John out on his own. But you should know," he said heavily, "he doesn't seem to want to complete the transition."

"No," she murmured, shaking her head. "He wouldn't want to become a vampire after everything..."

Suddenly, she looked down at her clothes, and around the room with a blank look in her eyes.

"I should get changed," Elena said numbly.

He nodded his head slowly in understanding. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?" he offered kindly. She nodded, and he left quickly after that.

She jumped straight in the shower, letting the heat chase away her fear for a few minutes. And so she didn't notice as her phone went off in the next room, until she'd already changed completely.

She walked back into the bedroom, dragging a brush through her long hair hurriedly as she walked back over to the bed to collect her things. Elena tilted her head curiously as she caught sight of her flashing phone, and dropped the brush onto the bed, trading it for the mobile. It was a text message.

For a moment - which ashamed her later - she wondered if Stefan was actually checking on her from downstairs already. But, no; it was from Damon. The message was just two words.

_Feeling criminal? _

It took her just a moment to realise the meaning. Damon wasn't going to wait. He was going to the jail now, and he was going to break John out immediately. She hesitated, thoughts of her family and Stefan going through her mind, as well as the twinge of guilt in her throat as she thought of breaking the law in her own town.

What would her mother think if she was alive?

The thought snaked into the back of her mind against Elena's will before she repressed it. She almost put the phone down and left right then, but Stefan's voice came back into her mind, whispering to her again that her true mother was dead. He'd told her just a few minutes ago, and already she'd been distracted.

Elena had already lost _three _parents. That was more than anyone should have to go through. She lifted her phone to reply.

Less than two minutes later, Elena was pulling her jacket on and climbing unflinchingly out of the window.

* * *

"This is by far your stupidest plan yet," Alaric muttered, glancing across the parking lot to the door of the police station with a slightly shell-shocked look on his face.

"That loses more and more meaning every time you say it," Damon said in a cheery voice, clapping his hand on the other man's shoulder. He was leaning against one of the cars, his face turned up into the sun casually.

"Why did you have to tell Elena?" he demanded in an undertone. "Why did you have to _invite _her? We could have done it without bringing her into all of this." He waved a hand at the intimidating building before them.

"Yeah, and we would never have heard the end of it, either. Besides, you've seen how this town acts around her - they'll be rushing to treat her every need in no time."

Alaric snorted softly, chuckling to himself. "Sorry," he said as Damon raised an eyebrow, not sounding sorry at all. "It's just funny for me to hear _you _say that, of all people."

Damon's gaze snapped to him as he lost his relaxed pose. He stood, shifting forward aggressively. "And what is _that _supposed to mean?"

Damon's pocket suddenly buzzed, his phone going off. With an annoyed, wary glance at Alaric, he pulled it out.

"Hello, Stefan," he answered brightly. "Just out for a little grocery shopping, no need for alarm."

Stefan's tone was brusque. "Have you seen Elena?"

Damon made a great show of looking around him exaggeratedly, making sounds of indecision for Stefan's benefit. "Nope, sorry, haven't seen her. What, did you lose her again?"

The phone beeped; Stefan had hung up. Damon slipped the slim phone back into his pocket with a pleased smirk on his face, before it faded, anticipation tightening his stance as he looked around. His eyes were bright again.

A couple of minutes later, Elena pulled into the park, hopping out lightly and walking over with a thinly veiled guilty expression.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she greeted them heavily, but the light in her eyes was mirrored by the others.

"You don't have to," Alaric said immediately. "It's okay if you want to go."

Her chin stuck out slightly as she shook her head. "No, I want to be here. I want to help."

"That's the spirit," Damon inserted happily. "What's a little arson among friends?" He smiled wickedly.

"Arson?" Alaric said flatly. "_That's _your plan? You're right - I was wrong. _This _is the stupidest plan you've ever had." He turned away in disbelief, but didn't leave. He continued to mutter under his breath, but Damon was listening.

"Now, what is this?" he breathed, his eyes focused toward the station. Tyler Lockwood was walking toward the entrance, his eyes darting furtively from side to side and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He had dirt smudged across his face and clothing, too, Damon noticed.

"What is it?" Elena asked, following his gaze.

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." He clapped his hands suddenly, turning to face both of them directly. "Okay. Here's the plan. I go on, distract the lovely Sheriff Forbes as requested. You both will cause a distraction - namely, a conveniently placed fire at the side of the building. Or inside," he allowed, with a thoughtful expression. "You know, if you're up for it. Elena, you'd probably be best at catching the most attention from the officers inside, while the teacher runs down and finds us some keys." He held her gaze as he spoke, silently asking her permission. At her reassuring nod, he turned back to Alaric. "I'll meet you down in the cell block, and we'll get John out. You get out the back with him without anyone noticing, and I'll stay here to help 'contain the fire'." He widened his eyes slightly as he said it, making him look even more excited. "They'll lose track of you Elena, and you can go with John and Alaric, okay? Don't put yourself in any danger," he told her sternly, holding up a finger. "No heroics."

She rolled her eyes, but nodded.

"Are you sure you can manage all that?" Alaric asked dubiously, looking at Damon. "I mean, you're not exactly anonymous in this town."

"That's why I'm staying here. I have a reason for being here; you two don't." He met Elena's gaze once before turning on his heel and sauntering into the police office, shoving both doors open as he entered.

"Drama queen," Alaric muttered, and then sprang into action, Elena right beside him.

Inside, Damon walked straight up to the desk, leaning against it, right beside Tyler, who was speaking urgently to the officer at the desk.

"You don't understand," he said in a low voice, his hands still buried in his jacket. "I have to talk to the Sheriff _now._"

"I'm sorry," the woman said coolly. "But you'll have to wait. Sheriff Forbes is busy right now. Please take a seat, and you can wait until she's free. Or, you can come back later." She gestured to the chairs in the waiting room.

"No!" Tyler pulled out his hands, and they were caked in rusty-brown dried blood, from around his fingernails up to his wrists and disappearing under his sleeve. "I don't know what's happened to me, I was supposed to be in the hospital. I swear, I have no idea what happened," he said desperately, holding his hands carefully away from him, almost presenting them to the officer, whose eyes had widened.

"I just woke up like this, and I don't remember anything."

"Come with me," she said briskly, pointing fiercely to the next room. Tyler didn't even look at Damon as he filed past him meekly. Damon frowned as he exited, almost forgetting his reason for being here.

He didn't bother with the paperwork; he walked straight past the desk, ignoring the protests, and into Sheriff Forbes' office. Where, thankfully, Tyler had _not _been taken. That would have made his plan a little more difficult to enact.

"Hello, Sheriff," he said warmly, taking a seat before her desk casually. "I heard you wanted to see me?"

She smiled, her expression tight. "Yes, thanks for coming, Damon." He didn't imagine the weariness in her voice. "I came to see you last night but I was... distracted. I need your help with a new development. There's been reports of animal attacks in the woods lately, and I was wondering if you could take a look at..."

"Animal attacks?" Damon asked, honestly curious. "What kind of animal?"

"That's the thing," she said, running a hand through her blonde hair and moving around to talk to him more informally. "We have no idea. The rangers haven't been any help with tracking them, and those that were attacked haven't been able to give a clear testimony."

She sat down on the edge of her desk, leaning forward confidentially. Damon mimicked the action, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't think it could be anything... else, do you?" she asked in a low voice.

He leaned back again, thoughtful. "It doesn't sound like a vampire attack, if that's what you mean."

"I know that," she said quickly, and she seemed to deflate a little. "But nothing seems to fit quite right, you know?" Her expressionc changed suddenly, going blank. "Can you smell..."

The sheriff trailed off as Elena's scream reached their ears.

* * *

Alaric poured out some of the recycling bags of paper out behind the station, trying to keep it in a relatively small pile, for control.

"Come on," Elena urged, shoving more of the paper out for him. "We should start another one around the other side, so it looks bigger."

He nodded in agreement, a little surprised at the deviousness of the girl's mind, and pointed out to the concrete. "Make sure no one sees you," he warned, as she hurried off, spreading her own kindling and fuel around the corner, against the walls. She crouched down, spreading it evenly along the ground, getting the most coverage, while Alaric lighted his with the matches Damon had slid into his jacket pocket.

This was incredibly stupid, and criminal, and dangerous. But, he had to admit, the results of leaving a transitioning vampire in the jail were so much worse. If John got out while he was in there, or if someone went in, he could change and be out without any of them knowing. He needed to be supervised at _least _if he was going to turn. He trusted that Stefan could try and keep him on a leash for now, and that if not, Damon could intervene with brute force.

Even if John didn't actually turn, he reasoned with himself, his inner monologue continuing as he helped Elena coax her flames into life. By then he would have revealed himself to the police force of Mystic Falls, just when they'd thought they'd eradicated the tomb vampires. Then questions would be brought up once more, and the security would be doubled. He doubted John would feel that hesitant in giving up information about the Salvatore brothers, now that he believed he had nothing to lose or gain from holding their secret.

He snapped back to reality, adrenaline coursing through his veins as the fire took life, the heat now hitting him from both sides.

"Go, Elena," he hissed, jogging her forward and pushing her towards the side. "Get out of here." As she was out of sight, he shifted around and jumped, grabbing the edge of the closest window. Then he began to agonizingly pull himself up. As he droppped into the conveniently empty room - storage by the looks of the boxes and files - he heard Elena screaming for help, her voice cracking convincingly. He hoped she'd have the sense not to actually get herself recognised as he moved to the door, pulling out his tools.

* * *

Good girl, Damon thought to himself as he heard Elena shout for help, but he kept his expression concerned, following her gaze out of the door. Suddenly the commotion and sirens hit them, and she shot to her feet.

"What the hell was that?" she said, and then rushed out of the office. Damon followed on her heels until he was out in the lobby. He slowed down, casually turning down the left corridor, and breaking through the locked door at the end of the hall. As it turned out, it was a good thing he was familiar with the police station after all, despite what Stefan had said.

He flashed lightly down the steps, and was greeted with an... uncomfortable sight. He could see Alaric at the other side of the room, standing out of sight of the two other people in the room besides himself and John.

That woman from the desk was seating Tyler hastily in the cell, despite his obvious desperation and panic, and backing out to lock it.

Damon went for improvisation instead of subtlety. He swept over to her, letting his expression twist in panic and scorn. It was one he was used to faking, fortunately.

"What the hell are you doing down here?" he sputtered, whipping his head back and looking up the stairs. "The sheriff sent me down here for you! Don't bother with the kid!"

"He needs to be secured for questioning later!" she protested, fumbling with her keys, her cheeks flushing.

He thrust his hand out and grabbed them, pointing back upstairs. "Go! I'm on the council!"

Utter confusion swept across her face, and he seized his opportunity. "Oh, good." He stared deep into her brown eyes. "Go upstairs with the others," he compelled her, certain she'd not ingested vervaine. "Later, you'll tell them that John Gilbert was missing from his cell when you came down. You never saw me here."

He released her and, with a glazed look in her eye, she stumbled up the stairs.

"Crap," he muttered, looking over at Tyler as she left, but the boy wasn't listening. He was staring at John in the cell opposite, a look of complete terror on his face. His mouth was hanging slightly open, his hands open and palm up in his lap.

Damon would have to look into the later.

Taking the keys, he met up with Alaric as they both ran to the cell, snatching the door out of the way.

"What the hell are you doing?" John demanded as Damon went in and jerked him to his feet, pushing him out of the cell disdainfully into Alaric's grip.

"Get him out of here," he told Alaric seriously, throwing him the key chain and turning to lean forward toward Tyler's cell. "Tell anybody we were here, and I'll be back," he said menacingly, almost pressing his face up to the bars. He took a shot in the dark, his mind piecing together random suspicions and impulses. "And I'll have a little story about your foray into the woods for out charming sheriff while I'm at it." He thought that the threat of incarceration would be more effective on the boy's over-developed sense of invincibility.

Tyler swallowed, still darting horrified glances over at the steel back door, where Alaric was now wrestling John out of the building. He nodded, and Damon had a split second to puzzle over the hazed, clammy look on the boys face that had nothing to do with his threat.

Just before he left, the teacher tossed the keys back to Damon, who caught them deftly and chucked them onto the table by the door as he ran back up the stairs.

"Will you shut up and let us help you?" Alaric growled as he had to literally drag John up and away from the station, over to the parking lot. The fire had already been put out, by the looks of it, but the billowing smoke from the other side told him Damon had, in fact, continued his work.

Instead of quieting and cooperating, John thrashed suddenly, straining in the direction of the people. "Help!" he bellowed. "_Hello!" _

Alaric clapped a hand over his mouth and wrestled him into the car, throwing him in the backseat and locking the doors.

"Elena?" John said, incredulously as he looked at the driver. She grinned tightly, her cheeks flushed in excitement, and slightly darkened with smoke. He rounded angrily on Alaric beside him. "You dragged her into this, too? My _daughter?_"

"I know everything, John," Elena said from the backseat, throwing the car into drive. "So you're just going to have to deal with the fact that I chose to come here."

Fortunately, the firetruck came bursting onto the scene, giving them ample distraction to speed out the front amidst the smoke and the intense spray of fire hoses.

John had succumbed to a simmering silence, when his head suddenly shot to the side, his gaze being pulled down to Alaric's hand.

"What's that?" he asked in a rough voice.

"What are you talking about?" Alaric replied, nettled, but he lifted his hand, looking in the direction that John had. A small drop of blood fell from the thin cut on the side of Alaric's hand.

"Must've been when I was dragging you out of that stupid fence," he muttered, wiping absently at the scratch. Then his eyes widened as the significance hit him. "Oh."

John was pressing himself into the seat, hard, his averted face twisted in disgust... and something much worse.

* * *

**a/n: Hope you guys like it :) and as always thanks for reading (and for being so nice in your reviews.) **


	11. Chapter 11

John hated vampires. He loathed them with every fibre of his being. He'd been almost fascinated by them at one point, perhaps, but they'd taken Isobel, like they were beginning to take his daughter. Thoughts of Elena trailing after those monsters, of wasting her life with him completely, plagued his mind at all hours of the day.

And yet all of that hate, that _fury_, was swept from his mind as that small drop of inoffensive red liquid began to fall from the man's hand.

His fingernail ached and bent as he ground them against the leather of the seats, his fingers turning white with his effort. It felt like his skin was screaming, the silence ringing horribly in his ears. He watched the blood slowly fall through the air before his eyes. Alaric hadn't even noticed. He could have reached out and caught the drop by now, like his body was shrieking at him to do, bringing it to his bone-dry mouth.

He knew he wasn't imagining the burning pain in his gums, either. He had been feeling the changes in his body over the last agonizing slow hours in that cage. He had longed to beat himself against those bars until they'd broken in half.

The blood splashed against Saltzman's leg, soaking through the sooty fibres and staying there. The man shifted his hand, exposing the slight cut to the air. That lovely, sweet, metallic sent the air, something he didn't want to recognise. Something started in his chest, an almost inaudible rumbling that sent vibrations throughout his entire frame.

"What's that?" he ground out, unable to take his eyes off the cut despite the new development. Then, as the man stupidly brought his hand up and closer to John's mouth, he felt something break through his gums, his own blood filling his mouth with the pain. They sliced straight through his tongue, and he felt a shock quiver through him.

He could feel his fangs. That thought was enough to break through the haze, flooding him with self loathing and digust for a brief moment. He turned his face away, looking determinedly out the window and clamping his fingers even tighter over the seat.

He was disgusting, a parasite.

The man was saying something, but he couldn't hear the exact words; the blood was pumping heavily past his ears, a rhythmic thumping.

_Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. _

John's mouth opened automatically, breathing in deeply and giving his new teeth more room in his mouth.

_Thump-thump. _

His world slowed down to that thick, wet sound, and his eyes started to close slightly. It wasn't him. His ears were sharpening, and he could clearly hear as the other man's heartbeat increased. John's tongue flicked out across his dry lips, the action doing nothing to help with the desiccated feeling in his mouth.

His fingers were beginning to uncurl from the seat, becoming loose claws by his sides, when another voice cut through the red haze in his mind.

"John?" Elena's voice was fogged and muffled, but it was recognisable. Almost as a result of her speaking, a second viscous rhythm hit his ears, lighter and faster than the first. Elena's heart. He could hear his daughters heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Repulsion stronger than anything he'd ever felt speared through his torso, turning his stomach over in disgust. Hate rose like bile in his throat, clenching his body and freezing him in his spot.

"Pull over," he growled. He didn't even recognise the voice that came from his mouth. "Now."

Elena glanced back in the rearview mirror at him, blanching and turning the car off the road quickly, bouncing them all for just a second as she drove onto the rough dirt.

John fell out of the vehicle before it really stopped, crashing heavily to his knees without really feeling it. The moist air hit his face, a cool blanket that soothed some of the fire in his throat. He dragged himself to his feet, staggering over to seize the closest tree, leaning his head against it and breathing in the earthy scent of the plants around him.

He felt it as the man approached, his footfalls reverberating through the ground and up through John's spine. He could hear the fabric of his jacket as he lifted his arm up, and finally, through the layers of clothes and skin, he felt the pulse of blood in Alaric's veins as he placed his hand on John's shoulder.

He seized the man's wrist from his arm and twisted, unthinkingly jerking him forward against the tree. The man was not untrained, and so he ducked as John lunged for his neck, shoving him hard in the chest. He barely felt it, but he was pushed back a few steps.

He surged forward again.

* * *

"_No!_" Elena yelled, rushing forward from the car as Alaric approached John's still figure. "Don't!"

A shadow appeared form nowhere, and John was thrown back from Alaric, crashing heavily and skidding along the grass. A ripping sound was coming from his throat, and Elena could just see the points of his fangs before Damon was standing in front of her vision.

"Get it under control!" Damon hissed, wrestling John back as he slammed mindlessly into his chest, teeth snapping over Damon's shoulder as he tried to get at Alaric again.

John visibly pulled in a deep breath, the shuddering stopping slightly. Damon jerked his elbow back, punching John solidly across the jaw.

Shock flitted over John's face, and he slackened, his expression slowly returning to normal. A thin layer of sweat covered his face, and he shoved himself away from Damon, stalking a few steps back.

Damon turned and walked straight over to Elena, pushing her her hair over her shoulders frantically, his fingers brushing at her neck. He ducked his head, holding her face gently in his hands and peering into her eyes.

"Are you okay? He didn't hurt you at all?"

She glanced absently over at John, shaking her head slightly. She didn't seem to notice as her hand rose to touch his fingers, holding his hand there for a second. "I'm fine," she told him, swallowing.

Damon brushed his thumb across her cheek, and then released her, turning to Alaric. "What about you?"

Alaric pressed his hand flat to his neck, pulling it away and looking at the thin drops of blood on his hand. "Just a graze, I think," he said calmly, dropping his hand to his side.

"Good," he murmured, nodding. "Take her home." He hesitated almost imperceptibly, before adding, "Please."

He carefully turned his back on Alaric, placing his hand carefully behind Elena's head and kissing her forehead softly. Then he flashed over to where John stood, and they both vanished quickly.

Elena looked guiltily up at Alaric, not sure how he would react to Damon's sudden show of tenderness. But he didn't say anything, instead gesturing toward the door with a blank expression. She brushed her hand lightly over her forehead self-consciously before getting into the car.

* * *

"John, just drink it," Damon said, throwing the blood packet at his feet. John was sitting on the stone bench in the boarding house's cell, his head hanging in shame and pain. "You don't have to turn out like me, you know, if that's the problem here. I took the easy road. But look at Stefan. He despises our kind, too, and he is a vampire. You'll be back to your hypocritical self in no time."

"Damon," Stefan said in an annoyed voice from his spot by the door. He was barely controlling the anger in his voice. His brother had taken his girlfriend to break a man out of prison, and almost gotten her killed, and he didn't even seem repentant. "You're not helping."

"Well, what would you suggest?" Damon challenged. "Sugar-coating it? Tricking him into drinking it? That won't help in the bigger picture, brother."

Stefan glared, but subsided into a tense silence.

"Who are you helping here?" Damon demanded, looking back at John.

"How about the citizens of Mystic Falls?" John said into his hands, without looking up.

"Please, what have they done lately? Besides, you haven't exactly been the most popular man in town." When John chose not to respond again, he huffed angrily. "Elena, then. What about her? Are you going to leave her alone like that?"

"She's not alone. And I'm not an idiot. I know what Isobel did to her."

"Isobel's dead," Damon said shortly. "Katherine killed her."

"Good riddance." John's voice was bitter.

"It's understandable to miss her," Stefan inserted quietly. "She was still part of the person you knew."

John was silent, but it wasn't the same cold tension from before. He raised his head slowly to look directly at Stefan, and then Damon. "We were going to kill you," he told them bluntly. "Both of you - that was the plan, that was why Katherine wanted her. We weren't supposed to go after the two of you, not for our own vengeance. If Katherine wanted her own vendetta, she wanted in on her own time." He sighed. "She didn't want this life for Elena - your life."

Stefan stepped forward, catching his attention. "Exactly, John. There was some of the old Isobel in her. If you try, if you can choose to hold onto your humanity, you don't have to live like her, even if you change. And if you try and hurt any of the townspeople, we _will _intervene. Elena knows that."

"She's stronger than you think," Damon said quietly. Stefan shot him a sharp glance at those words, but didn't say anything. "And she's more important than your prejudice." He turned and left the cell and, with a softer urging, Stefan followed him.

Once they were gone, John picked up the packet of blood, tossing it back and forth in his hands, a thoughtful expression on his face.

Upstairs in the front room, Damon flopped down on the couch, without a drink in his hand for once.

"Well, that was super fun."

Stefan didn't answer, instead walking more slowly into the room and stopping in front of his brother, his arms crossed.

"I like to think that I've been fairly... tolerant regarding your behaviour toward Elena," he said carefully. "Especially considering your most recent, _failed _attempts to win her over."

Damon's brow furrowed ever so slightly, before smoothing out again. "So, she told you about that?" he asked in an attempt at nonchalance.

"Yes, she did. It was feeble, Damon, and I think you know that." He shifted back slightly. "I know you care about her, I've acknowledged that, and I wouldn't dream of forcing her to choose."

Damon snorted. "Sure you wouldn't," he muttered under his breath. Stefan's face became colder.

"But don't pretend that you know her," he continued in a low voice. Damon's eyebrows rose in surprise at the hostility in his voice. "That you could even understand her. You may have begun to regain yourself, Damon, and I am more than glad that you have. But I am not going to let you drag her into danger like today. Don't make the mistake of underestimating me when it comes to protecting her. I will keep you from her, if need be, and more."

They stared at each other for a tense second, before a humourless chuckle escaped Damon's lips. He got to his feet, standing aggressively close to his brother.

"What're you gonna do, Stefan," he muttered. "Wrap her in bubble-wrap for the rest of her life? Chain her in the basement with dear old John?" He scoffed under his breath. "She's not some doll for you to dress up and put on display, brother. She is... righteous and good to unbelievable levels, but she isn't some scared little girl in the corner."

"Don't tell me who she is," Stefan bit out.

"Do you even _know _who she is?" Damon said, beginning to walk testily back and forth. "I mean, really?" When Stefan didn't say anything, he sighed, bravely clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder despite his livid expression. "Keep that in mind, little brother."

He walked around him, grabbing his coat and heading toward the door.

"Do you love her, Damon?" Stefan asked quietly, but there was almost a taunting edge to the bitterness in his voice.

Damon paused by the door, and he had lost his confident, nonchalant expression. His brow furrowed, and he turned his head back in Stefan's direction.

"That has nothing to do with you."

He whipped out of sight, the door swinging shut behind him. Stefan rubbed a hand wearily over his face, closing his eyes.

* * *

Tyler was sitting outside on the steps of the police station, his face pale despite the golden afternoon light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes shrewdly scanning the scene before him.

After a couple of minutes, he shot to his feet, striding out angrily to meet Damon, getting in his face.

"You were supposed to be here half an hour ago," he growled. "How do you know they wouldn't have just pulled me back in there! If they hadn't just felt guilty about my Dad, they would have!"

Damon grabbed his arm in a tight grip, turning the boy and lightly shoving him in the direction of the road. "You should really keep that temper under control now," he tsked. "You should know better by now. I heard about you and Matt's little scene - and Matt's mom, too, by the way." He raised an eyebrow, before smirking. "Not that I'm one to point fingers."

"Look, are you going to tell me what's going on, or not?"

Damon glanced up at the sky, but he wasn't rolling his eyes; his expression was thoughtful. "I could tell you my theories, but I think it's better we wait for a little proof first."

"What do you mean proof?" Tyler asked warily, yanking his arm away from Damon.

"Call it an experiment. I hope you're not averse to a little excitement, because I don't wanna lie to you; things could get a little hairy."

He smiled at his own joke.

* * *

**I formally apologise for the bad little pun at the end, that ending just randomly popped into my brain as I was writing. **


	12. Chapter 12

John was standing by the door, his head tilted to the side as the faint murmuring hit him. He couldn't make out any of the words, but he could definetely hear them talking. His hearing was getting sharper by the minute as he changed.

He stepped away again, running his hands over his haggard face wearily. The small packet of blood taunted him in the corner, where he had thrown it. It disgusted him, but he knew that had he been able to smell it, things would have all been over by now.

He could feel the strength that was starting to grow in his limbs, but he didn't want to admit it. If things were changing so rapidly, why could he still think? He was hurting everywhere, and it felt as if the moisture in his body was being slowly drained away, and somewhere he also knew that he should be a mindless, unthinking creature by now, tearing at the blood like it was nothing.

And yet he wasn't. He was still there, he was still thinking, resisting. Was it possible he was able to risk this? Could he actually resist that monstrous part of him if he gave in and turned?

He sat back down on the bench again, hands gripping his hair and knees bouncing on the ground restlessly.

If he went with that belief, and he turned compeletely, how could he know that this wasn't just a trick of his mind - the inner monster already driving him towards the blood without him realising? How could he possibly tell the difference?

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" Elena asked, looking behind her at Alaric as she trudged up the stairs to her home. "I'm sure Jenna wouldn't mind."

He waved a hand, smiling slightly. "No, it's fine. Something tells me tonight should be family-only."

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously over her shoulder at that, but he just chuckled under his breath and, with a slight wave, walked back to his car. She waved back, a confused look on her face, before pushing her way into the house and shutting the door behind her wearily.

"Jen - Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, startled by the sight of her brother standing before her. He was standing with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his hair as messy as always. "Jeremy!"

Momentarily forgetting their falling out in her joy, she barrelled into him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

"You're home!" she said happily, pulling back and looking into his face with a broad smile on hers. She didn't notice the surprised, almost wary expression on his face. "Yeah, they let me go a couple of hours ago," he said slowly. "You're not mad at me?"

"Oh, I could kill you," she agreed cheerfully, and then she shook him slightly by the shoulder before hugging him again, blinking rapidly. "I'm just glad you're okay." She slapped him hard on the arm. "How could do that?" she demanded.

Jeremy shrugged, looking aside. "You know why. With everything that happened... I just want... I don't know." He didn't meet her gaze again.

She sighed. "It's okay. Just... please talk to us. Or someone. Before you go and -" She dropped her voice to a whisper. "- try and make yourself a vampire." Her gaze dropped guiltily again as she remembered John. That was something else they'd have to talk about tonight. "Why wouldn't you talk to someone before trying that?"

"Yeah, well, it seems like I don't have a choice anymore. I have to talk to some hospital shrink weekly, now, but I don't see the point," he said bitterly. His eyes had gone cold again, hard.

"They just want to help, Jer."

"But I doubt it helps when I have to lie to my therapist. If I tell them anything real, anything about what I'm _really _going through, I'm going to get carted off to an insititution, and you know that."

"Well, you can talk to me," she offered hopefully. "Or Jenna."

"Yeah, Jenna," he said in a low voice, casting a glance back toward the kitchen. "Elena, why would you tell her about Anna? About everything?" There was a shade of hurt in his voice, and Elena knew it was because of how he'd found out. She'd never told him anything, and she'd even taken away his memories of it all, while confessing openly to Jenna.

"I had to!" Her voice was too loud; it carried into the other room.

"Elena?" Jenna called. "Is that you?" She appeared in the hallway, wiping her hands on a cloth.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late. Something... happened. I actually have to talk to you."

"Well, it can wait until after you eat," Jenna said, a determined expression on her face. "Whatever it is, we're going to have some food and be glad that Jeremy's okay, first, alright?"

Elena nodded with a sheepish smile. "Okay. I'm gonna go wash up, okay?" She smiled again at her brother before going upstairs to wash the smell of smoke off of her. By the time she'd had a shower and gotten changed, the sun was already setting.

Downstairs, Jenna had set the table and was serving up. Jeremy was already sitting down at the table, staring down at his plate awkwardly. Elena walked over and sat down next to him, touching his shoulder as she did so, just to reassure herself. She looked at the casserole in front of her, and then exchanged a slightly worried look with her brother next to her. She saw that he had lost that dead look again, and she felt the overwhelming urge to just go back to normal. She knew that later they'd have to face their problems, to admit to everything, but right now, she'd pretend that things were normal.

"What is it?" she whispered confidentially, pointing discreetly to the food in front of them as Jenna went back to the kitchen for more.

A ghost of a smile twisted Jeremy's mouth. "I have no idea," he said in a low voice. "But I think she's been experimenting."

"Oh, God."

Jeremy chuckled once, and Elena smiled, reaching out and taking her brothers hand tightly.

* * *

John beat both hands against the wall, the stone shuddering under his fists.

If he let himself die, if he fought against everything, than he knew - he _knew _- that he wouldn't be a threat to the town. He wouldn't come back, and he wouldn't kill anyone.

But he could hurt Elena. Everything he'd done - despite his intentions - all the lies he'd told her, the uncle act, _everything_... she might forgive him, eventually. And if - or when - she did, she'd be left alone, without a father or any parent. She'd have no one to really protect her from the world she was throwing herself into. What if she ended up like Isobel, fascinated by them until she gave up her own life?

On the other hand, if he _didn't _fight it, if he turned on the chance that he wouldn't become a monster, and then he did lose himself, he could hurt the very person he wanted to protect. What if, with the thirst pounding through his throat and the cold in his heart, he turned and killed his own daughter.

He held onto the pain that jarred through his chest at that thought, at the fear of that future. It kept him human, it kept him sane. It kept him from thinking about the packet in the corner. He didn't want to let himself turn into something that could hurt Elena, and then feel nothing about it.

He knew that Stefan couldn't have always been the careful 'man' he was now. Even so, Stefan had slipped. Despite everything he seemed to stand for, and he had turned again because of his abstinence.

So if John turned, he would have to keep a healthy supply of blood, like... Damon. His lip twitched up as he thought of... that. He hated the thought of trying to live like that thing, but he'd seen Damon completely ignore the temptation of blood when it was right in front of him. He'd also knew that he killed without remorse or feeling. Was that what it took to control your thirst?

Or was Damon the anomaly? Was it only him that could control his thirst? Or could John stay human and stay in control?

What if he did. What if John could resist his nature enough so that he could make himself resist the lure of hunting humans. He'd never wanted to hurt other people. Pearl, and the others, they weren't human. He protected people, he wanted to help them.

How better could he protect his family if he had the strength and speed to actually be of use? No more sneaking around making plans, he could actually get rid of the threats on his town. He could get rid of the dangers surrounding his daughter. And if he couldn't control himself, if he became a danger himself, he knew that one of _them _would take him out of the picture. He could make things safe for her, _finally._

He turned and walked over to the corner and leant down, picking up the blood again. Closing his eyes, he tore open the plastic with his teeth.

* * *

"Seriously, dude. Who the hell are you?" Tyler demanded, as he walked into the small, stone and wood cabin in the woods. Damon had taken them both out here, but hadn't been exactly forthcoming about his familiarity with the place. The cabin itself was very small, and complerely devoid of furniture - just a dark and dank room away from the rest of the town. "Who has a place like this? What kind of freak are you?"

"It's not mine," Damon said, pretending to be offended. "Let's just say we're,,, borrowing it for now." He rolled his eyes at Tyler's doubtful look. "Look, do you really want to do this in front of everyone else in Mystic Falls? No one will miss this -" He gestured broadly to the small building. " - thing. Now get in."

With an impatient sigh, Tyler walked to the centre of the cabin, turning in a circle melodramatically. "Better?"

Damon slammed the front door closed, barricading it from the outside casually before he moved over to the grimy window.

"Hey," Tyler demanded. "What are you doing?"

Damon glanced up at the darkening sky. "I'm not letting you get out tonight," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You'll go and slash up the populace again."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right, sure you don't." Damon twisted to lean up against the wall of the building, facing outward. "It'll be easier if you just admit it."

Inside, Tyler scoffed and shook his head, sitting down against the back wall.

A tense half-hour later, the full moon was rising in the sky, and there had been no change. Tyler was pacing across the cabin restlessly, still completely human.

"Will you let me out of here?" he yelled through the door, oblivious to the fact that Damon could have heard him at normal volume. "Whatever your plan was, it didn't work; nothing's happening!"

Damon frowned, staring through the window, at then back at the sky.

"It should've happened by now," he muttered under his breath, before raising his voice to talk to the boy again. "What happened? The other night?"

Tyler sighed. "I was... drunk. I snuck a bottle in, I don't remember it all that well." He turned defensive. "I was in the hospital, my friends are hurt, and my Dad just died, okay?"

Damon didn't seem to notice what he was saying; his expression had turned thoughtful. "So, I'm _guessing _you were feeling a little upset?" He said it in an insulting tone, deliberately.

"Of course I was upset!"

"Angry?"

"Well, yeah, I guess," he sputtered. "What has that got to do with anything?"

Damon was silent for a moment. "How well did you know your father?" he asked conversationally.

"What?"

"I mean, the real side of him. I heard he was a pretty abusive bastard, to be honest."

"Don't talk about my dad like that," Tyler snapped. "You didn't know him."

"Yeah, sure I didn't. We worked together, you know. In a way. Until he tried to have me killed."

"Stop talking about him!"

"Of course, he didn't count on that device affecting the two of you, I'm guessing. It made it a little murkier for his lackeys when they started the round up. Or at least, I'm assuming that was why they turned on him. Do you remember that night? Those needles in your skull? Your dad felt that, too."

Tyler groaned suddenly, doubling over his stomach. "_Don't make me angry,_" he growled, glaring up at the window, where he could foggily see Damon's face.

"Why not? What happens? Didn't Daddy ever tell you? Maybe he didn't even know what kind of thing he re -"

Tyler groaned again, the sound ripping up through his throat, but it wasn't a human sound. Damon couldn't see it, but when Tyler's eyes widened, bugging out of his skull as the spasms began to rock his body, they had changed, the irises no longer human as they stretched across his eye.

There was a series of shattering cracks, ear-splitting breaks that echoed off the walls as Tyler convulsed, falling to his hands and knees on the dirty floor.

His fingernails grew and hardened, driving deep scratches into the floor as his hands clenched. WIth a deep, guttural cry, he threw his head back, ripping and clawing at his skin and clothing in obvious pain as coarse hair began to push it's way to the surface.

Tyler thrashed on the floor while his bones broke and reshaped themselves dozens of times, and his teeth thickened and grew. His mouth opened in a scream, and it didn't close again; his jaw was elongating and widening on his neck.

In less than a minute, Tyler was gone, and the huge, black animal was quivering in it's place, a growl vibrating out of his chest. It's head rose, before it's eyes met Damon's through the window.

With a roar, it dug it's nails into the wood and threw itself bodily at the door.


	13. Chapter 13

The wolf slammed against the door with a crash that echoed back through the trees and shook the entire cabin. It rebounded heavily off of the thick wood, skidding back along the room, it's nails scrabbling and scratching at the wooden floorboards. With another ear-splitting snarl, it thrashed again, trying to break down the door.

Outside, Damon braced a hand on the barricade as another tremor rocked the building, startled laughter falling from his lips. He turned and leant his weight against the door as the assault worsened. The wood began to crack in protest, splitting near the hinges and the lock. The rifle he had leant up against the archway vibrated under the impact and fell to the floor with a soft thump.

A howling, keening sound began inside, and it started to scratch at the door instead, it's claws ripping and slashing at the wood. Damon beat on the outside of the door, catching it's attention.

"Tyler?" he yelled loudly, and the whining stopped. A low, resonant growl reached Damon's ears instead, the sound absolutely terrifying. It started beating itself against the walls again, hissing and snarling with mindless rage.

Damon shook his head, mouth slightly open in amazement, but he tried again. "Tyler? Can you hear me?" The crashing and thumping had stopped briefly, and so he moved to the window, cupping his hands against the glass and peering in. "_Tyler!" _

The wolf froze completely for second, muscles tense, before it turned slowly, keeping it's head held low. It padded forward a step, it's teeth bared and mouth hanging forward as it approached the window. It's long, thick claws clacked quietly as it walked forward.

It's head was turned slightly as it raised it to the window, it's eyes meeting Damon's directly. The heat of it's breath fogged up the window, steam curling up from it's nose and mouth. As it stood there, a low sound began thrumming from it's chest.

"Can you understand what I'm saying?" Damon asked, staring into the wolf's eyes and trying to find any trace of the boy in them.

It's teeth snapped shut with a snarl, and the wolf leaped at the window, shattering the glass. Damon staggered back as it fought it's way through the gap, protests keening from it's mouth as the shards cut into it's skin. It's huge black head and two of it's front legs scraped desperately outside the window for a few seconds, and then it gained purchase, shoving it's entire body through.

Damon's eyes darted to the rifle sitting in the grass by the door, and then back at the wolf in the way. It's teeth glistened in the moonlight as it began to advance, stepping to the side and circling Damon and growling through it's bared teeth.

Damon put his hands up in a peace gesture, mirroring the wolf's movements and slowly stepping to the left, towards the rifle.

"Tyler?" he said in a low voice.

There was no response, not even so much as a break in the steady growling.

"Come on, kid, you don't really want to eat me, do you?" He slowly began to crouch, lowering himself to the ground and reaching his hand out to the side without taking his eyes off the animal in front of him. "I mean, I doubt that I taste very good." His fingers closed around the handle, and he slowly pulled it along the grass and into both hands. "You see -" He jerked it up, cocking the gun in the one, smooth movement, but the wolf lunged at the same time, leaping clean over Damon's head and disappearing into the trees.

With a muttered curse, Damon sped after him, the branches whipping against him ineffectually as he blurred out with speed.

The werewolf was fast - incredibly fast - but so was Damon. Every time Damon tried to cut in front of the wolf, it veered off to the side, each time steering closer to the outskirts of the woods. So Damon tried a different tactic. He ran up alongside the animal instead, grabbing two handfuls of fur on his back and digging his heels into the earth. With a cry, the wolf pulled up, dragging them both down with their combined momentum. The both of them slammed heavily into the thick trunk of the nearest tree, which groaned and shook beneath the force of the impact, the roots pulling up an inch out of the ground.

They went skidding in opposite directions, the wolf uprooting a small tree as it span off and collided with the sapling and Damon rolling off to the wolf flipped onto it's feet in an instant, as did Damon, the both facing each other. After a moment's hesitation, the wolf started backing away, digging its paws deep into the soft ground as it retreated.

Damon went with his last ditch effort. His eyes darkened and bled as he let _his_ other nature forward, a feral snarl passing his elongating fangs. He crouched forward aggressively, and the wolf froze for a split second. And then it leapt forward, snapping and snarling and diving straight at Damon.

He dodged to the side, rolling beneath the black monster before turning and seizing the rifle. He let off the ready shot immediately, the tranquiliser dart thudding into the wolf's belly. The red tufts of the dart barely stood out beneath the thick, black, fur. A low whimpering sound rumbled from it's chest as the wolf turned it's great head to look at Damon.

And then it keeled over, falling heavily to the ground and sending a handful of leafy debris into the air. Damon pushed himself to his feet using the rifle as a cane, and then walked over to survey the damage. He rolled the wolf over with one hand and the gun's handle, pushing it onto his back. After a moment, the coarse hair fell away, revealing the unconscious Tyler again, his clothing slashed and dirty.

Damon straightened up with a tight, exhilerated grin, leaning the gun against his shoulder as he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"What do you want, Damon?" Stefan answered after the first ring. "Now really isn't a great time, you see -"

"Yeah, yeah you can passive-aggressive me all you want later, but you _have _to come and see this."

"See what?"

"Well, not to sound like the doomed victim in _every _single horror film out there, but I think we have werewolves in Mystic Falls," he said amusedly, tilting his head as he looked down at the boy at his feet. He hung up on the stunned silence that followed.

* * *

"Wait," Jeremy said slowly from the couch, looking up at Elena in disbelief. "Uncle _John _is becoming a vampire? Vampire hater-slash-hunter _John_?" He looked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes," Elena said for the fifth time. "I told you; Katherine made him drink some of her blood, and now he's transitioning. If he drinks the blood."

"And... and he's your _father?_" Jenna asked quietly.

She just shrugged, an apologetic expression on her face.

"So are they just going to let him turn?" Jeremy demanded doubtfully. "I know what they did to Vicki, Elena, and how do you know that he's not just going to turn up in a ditch somewhere?"

"Jeremy!" Jenna said sharply.

"I know this is hard," Elena said earnestly, looking pleadingly at her brother. "But John hasn't hurt anyone, and he doesn't have to. As long as he keeps on the packaged blood and controls his emotions, he won't kill anyone!"

"I still don't understand," Jenna said. "Why would... Katherine want to turn John of all people?"

"Isobel."

"Your birth mother?"

"Yes. She was a vampire," Elena explained slowly. "And she and John were... sort of working for Katherine, trying to round up the other vampires. But... they, uh, disobeyed. And so Katherine tried to use John to find Katherine."

"I thought you said Katherine was dead," Jeremy inserted.

"She is. Mr. Saltzman killed her."

"So she's definetely not coming back?" Jenna asked, frowning.

"No, she's not."

"I don't know," Jenna said heavily. "I don't like this. I don't like the idea of you going over there right now."

"I have to!" Elena protested. "I don't even know if he's going to turn yet! John hates vampires, and he could just -" She stopped, taking a deep breath. "I just can't leave it alone and not think about it."

Jenna sighed in a disapproving way, but didn't say anything as she looked aside.

"I want to go with you," Jeremy said quietly after a moment.

"What? Jer, no."

He gave her a hard stare. "Come on, Elena," he said in a steady voice. "This isn't some masochistic, vampire blood thing. Whether you like it or not, I'm a part of this world now. Anna told me a lot."

Elena sighed deeply, shrugging her shoudlers slightly. "Fine, I guess."

Jenna shook her head mutely for a second, her mouth slightly open in shock. She got up and walked over and sat at the dining table, running her hands through her hair for a moment.

"Fine, fine. I don't have to like it though," she said sternly, holding up one finger.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay with Mr. Saltzman again?" Elena asked hopefully. "He can explain anything you have questions about, or if you feel unsafe here..."

"I'm not quite that helpless, Elena." She almost smiled. "I just don't want you guys in danger."

"We won't be." Elena was completely confident.

Jenna still looked dubious, but she just sighed. "Well, what do I do if John shows up here while you're gone?" Jenna asked tiredly. "Do I invite him in, or what? Those are the 'vampire rules' aren't they?"

Elena's lips pursed together in indecision for a few seconds. If John turned and he was fine, then he would probably come back here. But if he wasn't fine, then he might come back to the house for a totally different reason.

"No," she decided. "Don't invite him in, just... call me, or Stefan, or Damon, okay?"

Jenna shook her head bemusedly again, but it was an assent. Elena swallowed her guilt and grab Jeremy's elbow loosely, pulling him out of the door with her.

* * *

"Stefan?" Elena called as she approached the front door of the boarding house.

"You know, he can probably hear you without the volume," Jeremy commented idly.

She turned, raising her eyebrows at him in amused surprise. "Thanks for the update," she said sarcastically, but she was smiling. It was strange for her to be able to actually talk about this. "I don't even know if he's here right now. I probably should have called first."

"Is... Damon going to be there?"

"This is his house, too, Jer. He's really not that bad, you know. He's a good person."

Elena didn't see it, but Jeremy's expression turned to incredulity at the utter faith and belief in her voice. He shook his head, but chose to stay silent. He didn't want to fight with her, either.

The door opened, and Damon smiled down at her. "Thank you, Elena," he said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Don't get cocky," she rebuked him playfully, shoving lightly at his chest and pushing past him into the house. "Or I might not be as nice in the future."

"I thought you said I 'wasn't that bad'," he coaxed. Jeremy had a slightly nauseated look on his face as Elena smiled over her shoulder at Damon.

"And you aren't. Most of the time."

"Oh, be still my heart."

"Too late," Jeremy muttered, and Damon's eyes moved over to him, turning puzzled.

"Jeremy," he greeted him with unusual politeness, but he was frowning slightly. He moved aside to let him past. "Good to see you're... feeling better."

Jeremy still looked a little repulsed over Damon and Elena's banter earlier, but he nodded.

"Thanks."

"Is Stefan here?" Elena asked, moving further into the house.

"Uh, actually, you might not want to go in -" Damon warned, but Elena had already seen it. "- there."

"What's going on?" she gasped. "Is that..."

"Tyler?" Jeremy asked flatly, following her in and seeing Tyler's filthy, bruised and unconscious form on the sofa. Unfortunately, Damon had left the rifle leaning up next to him, in plain sight. "What's he doing here?"

"That's... complicated," Damon hedged. "What's he doing here anyway?" The last was a murmur directed only to Elena, and he gestured discreetly over at Jeremy.

"We came to see John," she answered absently. "Why is Tyler Lockwood passed out on your couch?"

"He got tired. John's downstairs in the cell, and Stefan is fetching something more suitable for our little guest."

Elena opened her mouth to speak again, but then closed it, fluttering her hands aimlessly. "Later," was all she said, and then gestured for Jeremy to follow her, heading to the basement. But as she reached to open the door, it swung open, startling them both. John seemed shocked to see her there at first, and then his expression closed off a little, and he put his hands in his pockets defensively.

"Hello, Elena," he said tightly. "Jeremy."

He didn't seem to have any blood on him, and his expression was the same mask as always, but there was something different. She knew he'd changed.

Despite the horror she should have felt, a small bubble of hope built in her chest. She bit her lip.

"Are you... you?" Elena asked, shifting back slightly.

John looked down at a moment, an ashamed look on his face, before he met her gaze directly a familiar habit that subconsciously relieved both Jeremy and Elena, their postures relaxing slightly.

"As far as I can tell..." John said slowly, carefully, testing himself. A small, sad smile bent his lips, and he rubbed absently at his cheek. "I'm me."

**This ending isn't as exciting, I know, but I thought I should have a happy ending to at least one chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Just a random thank you to 'Peachie X' for the spell check. I'm actually sick atm and there's some lovely shaky hands happening. So thanks for that :) **

Elena let out a deep breath, which she hadn't realised she'd been holding. She moved aside from the basement doorway, letting John up into the rest of the house without hesitation.

"Are you, uh, hungry or anything?" she asked awkwardly, trying to judge from his expression and failing. He looked... pretty much the same, actually, if a couple of shades paler.

"Elena," he said, throwing her a withering look. "Don't you think you're having a little trouble with role reversal here?" He smiled slightly, his eyes darting around the room with acute interest. For a moment Elena wondered what he was seeing, how the world looked to him now. There was something in the way his gaze seemed to linger on the most insignificant things; the light, the fire, the books. She could have sworn he even stared at the dust motes in the air for a second.

John continued walking through his scrutiny, waltzing right into the living room like he owned the place. If anything, the rudeness was oddly comforting; it was a familiar John Gilbert mannerism.

He stopped as he passed the sofa, catching sight of the unconscious boy still laying there. He tilted his head, pointing questioningly at him and looking over at Damon.

"Isn't that the Lockwood boy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Damon nodded calmly. "Yep."

"Why is he here?" He sniffed, and then recoiled slightly, "Is that _him?"_

"That wet dog smell? Yes, it is," he said approvingly. He seemed glad that John could smell that, but Elena couldn't think why. "I'm... reasonably sure he's a werewolf. He seems to be semi-harmless for the moment, anyway, although it's probably best you're not here when he wakes up."

"Tyler's a _werewolf?_" Elena and Jeremy burst out at the same time. Damon met Elena's shocked eyes and nodded briefly.

"And why is that?" John asked slowly, ignoring their reaction and keeping his eyes on Damon.

"Because you're responsible for his father's death," he said bluntly, but not insultingly. "And I don't want to take the chance that he doesn't know that."

John's gaze cooled suddenly, going blank and neutral. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, but he never got a chance to speak. His head snapped to the side as Elena gasped, and he flashed forward a step.

It was just Stefan. He had grasped her arm suddenly, above the elbow, startling her.

"Stefan, what are you doing?" she demanded as he began to pull her back, behind him.

"You shouldn't be around him this early in the transformation," he said flatly, glaring at John, who looked mildly affronted. Jeremy started forward, but Elena held a hand up.

"What? He's fine, Stefan," Elena said, annoyed. She tried to pull her arm out of his grip, but he held on. "Look! He hasn't hurt anyone. He hasn't even tried. Let me go."

"He could snap at any second, Elena, he could turn bad."

Damon flitted over there, getting in his brothers face. "Why, because _you_ did?" he hissed, and then he looked pointedly at Elena, before glaring back at Stefan. "Let go of her." His lip twitched up in anger as he repressed a snarl.

Stefan released her immediately, but he didn't take his eyes off of Damon. "She's not safe here," he said with deliberate calm.

"You honestly think he could get past me? He hasn't gone for her yet, because he won't." His voice was final.

Stefan crossed his arms across his chest, planting his feet in a protective stance in front of Elena. With an annoyed sound, she walked deliberately around him to stand right beside John, who glanced from Elena to Stefan without emotion.

"It's fine," Elena said again, trying to smile reassuringly. But Stefan was still watching John carefully, not looking directly at her.

"Look," Jeremy inserted after a very tense moment of silence. "Tyler's not gonna like waking up with a bunch of people staring at him, believe me."

Elena took a deep breath and then nodded. "He's right. We can go, if you like...?" The gaze she swept across the room included both Jeremy and John.

"Can't say I blame you," Damon muttered, and she shot him a sharp glance. He just raised his eyebrows at her unapologetically.

"Should I stay here?" Jeremy asked her in a low voice. "I mean, we don't get along that well, but I know Tyler."

"Sure, if you want to. It can't hurt to have someone to talk to him about this, right?" She looked uncertainly back at Damon.

"I don't mind either way," Damon said casually, shrugging one shoulder. "I doubt he really wants to stick around with me just now, anyway." He got up and walked over to get himself a drink.

"Thanks," Jeremy said without spite. His eyes drifted around the room, curiosity lighting his expression despite himself.

"Feel free." Damon gestured broadly with one arm towards the rest of the house. "Study's a couple of rooms over. Lots of interesting books to pass the time."

Jeremy nodded, with just a shade of uncertainty. He smiled to reassure Elena, and then left the room.

"How are you feeling, John?" Stefan asked suddenly, in a professional, detached tone.

"Murderous," he replied with biting sarcasm. "Obviously, I'm going to attack my _daughter."_

Damon sighed. "As much as it pains me to agree with Stefan in any way, he has a point. Even if you feel fine now, you are going to get thirsty again, probably soon."

"I already raided your little fridge downstairs," John said distastefully. It seemed he still wasn't exactly optimistic about his new life. "What more would you suggest?"

"Taking you hunting," Stefan asked.

"What?" Damon protested suddenly. "No. We already saw what a monumental mistake that was with you. If he's fine with drinking the packaged blood, then I say give it to him. It'll make him slightly more bearable to be around."

"Well... it's not like that really hurts anyone," Elena put in tentatively, glancing at Stefan. She didn't want to openly discredit his way of life right in front of him when he worked so hard to keep in control. "I mean, if he doesn't hurt anyone, I don't see why it shouldn't be a big deal..."

"Exactly," Damon said almost proudly. "It's right to force your beliefs on people, you know, Stefan. Or do we have to talk about a little something called 'respect'?"

Tyler's back arched on the couch suddenly, before he shuddered completely, falling to the ground and writhing there. For a split second, the only sound was Tyler's hoarse cries of pain, and then there was a flash of action. Stefan and Tyler were gone, disappearing down the basment. A second later, John followed after him, using his new found speed for the first time.

Jeremy jogged into the room as Elena stood there, open-mouthed.

"What happened?" he asked, looking from Elena to Damon questioningly. "Elena?"

"I think Tyler woke up, but... They took him down to the basement," she sputtered, pointing toward the entrance when Jeremy's eyebrows shot up. "But I don't think you should go down there!"

It was too late; Jeremy had already gone, too. Elena sighed heavily, her body slumping in resignation.

"Don't worry," Damon remarked idly, sitting down calmly and smiling over at her. "He's already in the cell."

A more pressing question suddenly hit her, causing her heartrate to spike for a moment. "But if John could get out of the cell, than -"

Damon set the drink aside and was in front of her in a flash, ducking his head to look into her face more closely. "Calm down, Elena," he said quickly. "It's fine. John didn't break out, I unlocked the door, okay?"

Her eyes lost that frantic look. "Oh. How did you know he was okay, though?"

"It's easier than you might think. Those without emotion mostly don't feel the need to fake it - hell, they _can't._ At least the newborns can't, anyway, if they shut it off. I know what that madness looks like," he said darkly. "And John didn't have it."

"Thank you."

Elena jumped suddenly as a loud bang echoed up from beneath them, and then stared at the floor fearfully.

"Tyler's awake," Damon said heavily, glancing over at her again. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she murmured immediately. "It's just a little... strange."

"Do you want to go?"

She bit her lip. She _did,_ but only to just... take a break from everything for a moment. She didn't actually want to leave John or Jeremy here, not when she'd only just got them both back. These last few days had just been so draining.

Damon's voice broke into her deliberation. "Come on," he said, nodding at the door. "Take a breather." He put his hands on her shoulders, slowly walking her forward when she hesitated. She went limp in his grip, melodramatically letting herself slump while she shuffled forward. He chuckled slightly beneath his breath. "Drama queen. I will carry you out the door," he threatened, and she straightened up immediately, rolling her eyes and opening the door.

Elena took a deep breath as the cool air hit her face, and she stopped for just a moment, tilting her face up to the sky before she continued. As they got further away from the house, and the noises began to fade from her hearing, she slowly began to relax.

They walked in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, before Elena spoke. "How did you get Tyler back here so quickly?" she asked curiously. There wasn't any suspicion in her voice; it was an honest query.

"Oh. I _might _have promised to find out what was happening to him when we broke John out of jail," he said uncomfortably.

She loooked over in surprise. "What?"

"The details aren't important," he muttered quickly. "But he was the one that attacked John, as far as I can tell. He doesn't remember it consciously, but..."

"And you just automatically jumped to werewolf?" Elena asked. Her tone was almost impressed, but it was more puzzled than anything. She was still having trouble putting together the image of Tyler's sleeping face with the animal she'd seen that night.

Damon shrugged modestly. "I had a little more clue than that, you realise. I just put two and two together. That, and him transforming right in front of me helped."

She shoved lightly at his arm, and he smirked. It faded a moment later, a thoughtful expressiont taking it's place. "The change didn't trigger immediately when the moon rose, it only happened when I aggravated him enough."

"Maybe that's how they always transform," Elena offered.

"That's what I thought. But then he woke up and went straight to his other form."

"Well... it could be that his change had already taken effect. He was already supposed to be in that form. But then you tranqued him, didn't you? So when he woke up, his body just automatically went to change back into the wolf."

When he was silent for a few seconds, she looked up at him to check his reaction.

"What?" she asked self-consciously. He was looking down at her with a small smile on his lips.

"Careful now," he warned. "You're beginning to sound like you know what you're talking about."

"Hey, I can be very deductive, you know." She waved a finger at him accusingly.

"Of course."

She scoffed under her breath, turning her face away playfully, a full smile on her face now. Damon smiled at her happiness, and his eyes travelled slowly over her face. But she couldn't see it.

She didn't see the flash of emotion that went through his blue eyes, or the way he had to look away, breathing deeply for a moment.

When she looked back, he had stopped, and was staring up at the dark sky. She stopped, too, standing in front of him.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, looking closely at him.

He just shook his head slightly in bemusement, face still tilted up.

"What's wrong?" She touched his arm gently, and he tipped his head forward again to look closely at her, his eyes silver-blue in the moonlight. He was frowning slightly.

Damon raised his hand to brush the strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear gently. He kept his hand hovering there for a couple of seconds, almost touching her cheek, but then his fingers curled into a loose fist and he let him arm drop to his side again. Elena could suddenly feel her heart much more intensely, it's pace picking up as it pulsed in her throat.

"You shouldn't be with him," he said quietly, his brow still furrowed.

"Damon..." She could barely get the word out. She was almost feeling dizzy now, the way her pulse was pounding. The stars sparkled too brightly out of the corners of her eyes, giving the night a surreal quality; she wasn't sure she was really standing there anymore.

"I don't _want_ you to be with him," he amended in a slightly rough voice. "I can't stand it. I can't even..." He threw his hands up in a hopeless gesture, looking away for just a moment before his gaze slid back to hers. "I want to be worthy of you, Elena. Just... once. I want to be able to say that I deserve you, that I deserve this... _faith_ you've always had in me. And I can't." He laughed once, bitterly. "I may never be able to."

He leant forward, taking her face in his hands softly. "But I can't just stop, when..."

His voice trailed off as Elena touched his cheek lightly, trailing her fingers down and across his lips. He touched his forehead to hers for just a moment, her quick breath falling on his mouth while they both listened to the frantic sound of her heart.

And then he kissed her.

**Hey, just a heads-up there should only be a few more chapters to this story, that's why it's starting to round down a little bit now :) Hope you liked it. **


	15. Chapter 15

Elena locked her arms around Damon's neck, pulling herself closer as Damon's lips moved softly with hers. This was theirs, she realised in some hazy part of her mind - the conscious part had been swallowed up a little while ago. No matter what monsters and werewolves and problems lay back at that house, this was just theirs.

* * *

Alaric drove along the long trail to the Salvatore boarding house for what felt like the dozenth time that week. He would have to get caller ID soon, if they were going to keep on calling him in the middle of the night asking for his help.

He didn't even notice the two figures on the lawn until he got out of the car, and his keen ears picked up a gasp behind him. He spun, and saw Elena and Damon standing there, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Hi," Elena said immediately, and Alaric heard the fluster in her voice. He looked around at her, shutting the door behind him. Her cheeks were flushed.

Alaric looked from one to the other, his brow furrowing slightly as he put two and two together. Elena hurried to open her mouth, glancing at Damon beside her as she began to speak, but Alaric held both hands up, palm out.

"I don't even want to know," he said, closing his eyes for a second. And he honestly didn't. He'd already started to figure out what had been going on between the two of them, and he wasn't about to put himself in the middle of the whole mess. "Believe me."

"Thanks," she said in a tight voice, and then grabbed Damon's arm, towing him back with her towards the house. Alaric shook his head to himself, following them more slowly. He was positive he didn't want to hear anything they were saying right now.

He could still feel the surprise and embarrassment on his face as he entered the house, and worked hard to keep his expression smooth. He wasn't going to a part of this, he reminded hismelf. It wasn't up to him, he had nothing to do with it. He chanted that in the back of his mind as he met Stefan's gaze expectantly.

"So what's the problem?" he asked, looking down at his feet as he could feel the banging coming from beneath them. "What is that?"

"Tyler Lockwood, actually," Stefan replied easily.

"Tyler's a vampire?" He was utterly confused now. He couldn't figure out how the two were connected.

"No." Stefan glanced around the room, and then gestured through to the study. "I'll explain."

"Okay," Alaric said slowly, and walked out of the room, feeling more than slightly wary now. What could Stefan need to talk about that he'd need to say away from the rest of them. Did he know about Elena and Damon already? Did he _really _think that he could come to Alaric for help after everything? He was only too aware of the fact that his black-and-white, vampire-hunter perspective was beginning to blur.

Besides - he didn't have anything to do with it.

"From what we've seen," Stefan began in a low voice, putting his hands in his pockets as he faced Alaric. "Tyler is a werewolf. His father was, too."

"The mayor? Well, that would explain a lot. John, for example." He paused. "How's that going, by the way? Has he...?"

"He transitioned, yes. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What do you mean?" Alaric asked suspiciously, his posture shifting to mirror Stefan's defensive pose.

"I wanted to ask for your help over the next few weeks. I know it's a lot, but I need someone else to help me if he... loses control," he said delicately.

Alaric felt a thrill of unease. "What do you mean? Has he broken out already?"

"No, he's downstairs."

"And has he attacked anyone?"

"Not yet."

Alaric ran a hand through his hair, repressing a groan. "Well, Stefan, I'm not seeing the real danger here. Wouldn't he have already turned and killed us all if he was going to? Wouldn't he have attacked me when I arrived? Or Elena?"

"We don't know that he's retained his humanity," Stefan said coolly.

"We don't know that he's going to turn bad, either," Alaric replied in the same tone, before relaxing. "Of course I'll keep an eye out, and I'll help you if he does, but I don't see the benefit of putting any extra strain on the situation."

Stefan still looked unsatisfied, and annoyed.

"Look," he said before Stefan could get aggravate himself even more. "He hasn't left yet, and he can't during the day; he doesn't have a ring. Now what can I do with Tyler?"

Stefan took a deep breath. "Not a lot, to be honest. Have you seen anything like this before?"

"Other than that night in the woods?" Alaric asked archly, and then he shook his head. "No. Nothing. I didn't even know they existed."

"Neither did we. He's in the cell now, and he can be knocked out. As Damon proved," he muttered under his breath.

"Damon knocked him out?"

"With a tranquiliser dart, apparently. He guessed what was happening after talking to Tyler, and so he took him out to some cabin in the woods to 'test his theory'."

Alaric nodded to himself. He had to admit, that actually helped their situation. Everyone here - including Tyler - now knew what going on, and they might even be able find out how to control it. There wasn't much else they could do.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Alaric asked, raising his eyebrows at Stefan's solemn expression. "I mean, given the circumstances."

"Yeah, it's very good," Stefan agreed, but his voice was still low, grave.

"Okay," Alaric said after a moment, clapping his hands together. "Do you mind if I take a look at Tyler? To be honest, the 'werewolf' development little hard to believe on it's own. "

Stefan shook his head slightly, as if to clear it. "Sure," he said, waving a hand. "Go ahead. John's already down there, and Jeremy."

Alaric didn't say anything, but he smiled slightly to himself as he walked away. He didn't like the thought of Jeremy being in danger after that whole incident with the vampire blood, but he was glad that he was here. If anything, it would help him and Elena rebuild their relationship, and probably help with a lot of the trust issues regarding this whole world. And, on the other hand, being out of the house and with other... people would be better than him sitting alone thinking about his losses.

Absently he wondered if Jenna was okay, and then decided he'd check on her later.

"Hey, Jeremy," he said, walking down the dark corridor over to where he was standing, looking curiously into the room.

"Hey, Mr Saltzman," he replied in surprise, moving aside to greet him. "It's... still a little weird to see you here, no offense. Elena filled me in on everything."

Alaric laughed quietly, nodding in understanding. "None taken." His smile fell from his face as he took Jeremy's place by the door, peering into the cell.

It was true. It was impossible not to recognise that animal, after seeing it attack John. A loud thrumming, whining noise was erupting from it's chest, interspersed amongst the growls as it crouched in the corner of the small room. As Alaric watched, it slammed itself into the wall, causing a loud crash that rippled up the stone.

"Wow," he breathed despite himself. It probably should have been terrifying - horrifying, even - but it was fascinating to him. Vampires was one thing, but werewolves as well, in the same town? He couldn't help but be glad he lived here, if only to see things like this in his life.

"Pretty mind-blowing, huh," John muttered, and Alaric's head turned. He hadn't noticed John before, leaning casually against the wall.

"Hello, John," he asked, not quite frowning.

"Calm down." John lifted his hand, revealing the glass in his hand. "Despite what you may here, I'm not a lethal parasite, it seems." There was a slight edge of bitterness in there.

"Yeah, sure. Uncle John gets all the excitement," Jeremy muttered to Alaric, smirking slightly as he moved to look in the window again. Alaric smiled in response.

Damon joined them a few minutes later, a preoccupied expression on his face before Alaric met his gaze pointedly. And then the smirk slipped back into place, and he gazed around at all of them before sitting casually on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Welcome to the waiting game, Ric," he said with a rueful smile. "Good to have you here."

The strange thing was, Alaric thought, was that he seemed to really mean it. Damon was actually glad to have him there. Even stranger was how normal it felt for Alaric himself to be there, standing with the vampire that turned his ex-wife, not to mention the father of the child of his ex-wife. He wondered when that intrinsic resentment and hate had begun to fade.

"It's a strange world," he muttered to himself, talking about more than just the current situation. Both John and Damon looked up; a reminder that John was definetely more than human now.

Damon smiled oddly, the light in his eyes mirroring that in Alaric's; Damon understood.

"More than strange."

The murmur came, not from Damon, but from John as, with a determined expression, he downed the rest of his blood manfully. Damon saluted with one finger, looking down to hide his small smile.

* * *

Stefan stopped the car outside of Elena's house, without cutting the engine. Elena was glad of the noise; it stopped things from becoming dead silent. It was tense enough without it, she thought.

But despite that, Stefan was trying. He smiled at her from the drivers seat as she got out.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" he said quietly.

"Um, okay." She tried not to make it sound like a question. She shut the door and hurried up to the house before her fluttering pulse could give her away. The house was dark; Jenna had already gone to bed. That was good, she thought dazedly, and then wondered at herself. She'd already decided, she realised. She'd already made the decision without even consciously thinking about it.

Elena took a deep breath, going over to the kitchen and getting herself a glass of water. She pressed the cool glass to her overheated cheeks, closing her eyes. She could still feel her hands shaking, and that weak feeling in her legs was starting to buzz up through her torso as well.

She was leaning against the counter, her eyes closed, when Stefan's voice sounded next to her, startling her and causing her heart to jump straight into her throat.

"Are you okay?"

"God, Stefan," she gasped. "You scared me." She put the glass in the sink behind her, both to stall, and so she'd have an excuse to look away. "I'm fine."

"You should get some rest," he said softly, setting his hands gently on her shoulders in a way he probably meant to be reassuring. She wriggled out of his grip, shifting out of his reach and turning to look at him steadily.

He shifted back slightly, seeming to catch onto her mood. "What is it, Elena?" he asked seriously. "Look, Stefan, we need to talk." She didn't want to sound so cliche, but she truly couldn't think of anything else to say - her mind had almost gone completely blank. But she was determined to be honest. Taking a deep breath, she tried to stop the trembling in her hands, and was almsot successful.

"Okay." He paused for a fraction of a second. "Is this about John again? Because I'm sorry, but -"

She held up both hands, stemming his words. "No. It's about me. And..." She barely got the word out. "... Damon."

His expression seemed to freeze, set in the puzzled look he'd had a second ago. Just when she thought he was going to stay like that, he spoke through tight lips.

"Do you love him?"

She bit her lip, thinking for a moment. "I don't know yet," she said honestly, but for some reason she was fighting the urge to smile at the same time.

"Do you still love me?" he asked in a low voice.

Elena felt an odd sensation, like the floor was sinking beneath her for just a faint moment. Then she heard her voice without really intending to say the words.

"Not like I did before." That hung in the air, and then the words came tumbling from her mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Stefan. I really didn't mean for this to happen, and I don't want to hurt you. I still care about you, I do, and I hope you don't hate me after this, but I don't think... I don't think that I can stay with you. Not... not when I have... feelings for someone else."

He was silent for at least twenty seconds; Elena had started counting in her head.

"Say something," she pleaded.

"I don't hate you," he said, finally. His voice was quiet, measured. He didn't even seem angry at her, she realised with a swell of guilt. Not that she really expected him to; he was too good to take it out on her.

Stefan smiled sadly and rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't think I really could. It isn't your fault, Elena," he said, looking in her eyes. "I know that. And I don't blame you. Just... you'll be happy, right?"

She nodded slowly, still watching his reaction unfold before her with a sort of numbness. "Yeah, I think I will."

"Then... good. I'm glad."

He vanished, leaving Elena blinking rapidly in his sudden absence. She trudged up the stairs to her room, until she collapsed on the bed, staring with wide eyes up at the ceiling. She stayed that way for a long time.

**Next - and last, hopefully - chapter will be up soon for those who are close enough to my time zone to be reading this. :) **


	16. Chapter 16

"Hey," Jeremy said loudly, rousing the attention of the other two in the corridor. John had left before sunrise, retreating further into the basement so he could wait out the day, as he _didn't _have the same protection as the Salvatore brothers. "I think he's waking up."

Tyler had been slumped in the corner of the cell for the last hour or so, unconscious and unmoving. Now, he was beginning to rouse.

Damon was on his feet in an instant, shuffling Jeremy out of the way slightly so he could unlock the door. He let the other in the room first, though, letting him past without protest.

"Tyler?" Jeremy said dubiously, walking slowly over to the other boy. He turned back to look over his shoulder at Damon. "Hand me that, will you?" He caught the jumper that was thrown to him with a muttered thank you.

Tyler groaned slightly beneath his breath - a human groan - and sat up, looking around him confusedly. Then his expression tightened, a defensive glint in his eyes as he looked up at Jeremy standing over at him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, before looking around him with a suspicious expression. His gaze zeroed in on Damon. "What happened? What am I doing here? You said you were going to figure out what was happening!" He got to his feet, wriggling out of the slivers of tshirt still clinging to him and pulling the hoodie on angrily. His jeans were more of a pair of shorts, now, and so he pulled the tracksuit pants that Damon threw straight on over them.

"And I did," Damon said, slightly defensive. Then he rolled his eyes elaborately before fixing the boy with a very direct stare. "You're a werewolf."

"_What?"_ he said incredulously, still glancing suspiciously at Jeremy from the corner of his eye. "This is a joke." His gaze focused on the boy next to him. "Are you a part of this?"

"Come on, Tyler," Jeremy said. His derisive tone, along with the levelled way he looked at Tyler had more of an effect than Damon's assurances could have. "You may not remember everything, but look around." He gestured around at the walls, which were scratched and chipped from the abuse they'd received during the night. "You know we're telling the truth, even if you can't face it."

His matter-of-fact tone made Tyler pause. He looked from Damon to Jeremy, his gaze even skirting to the door where Alaric stood silently, searching for some hint of denial from any of them.

"Why are _you _here, anyway?" he asked Jeremy. He tried to get back his aggressiveness from before, but it came out flat anyway.

Jeremy laughed once. "Believe it or not, you're not even the weirdest person I know."

Behind them, Alaric exchanged a look of approval with Damon, before he spoke. "Tyler, we can explain everything we know to you. Just come upstairs and you can ask anything you want."

"Unless you actually want to stay," Jeremy muttered, looking around at the slightly macabre room. Tyler shook his head ruefully, one side of his mouth pulling up in a wry smile as he pushed out of the room, making his way up the stairs.

"Wait," Damon said as they all entered the living room. "Has anyone seen Stefan? Did he end up coming back last night?" His brow was furrowed in concern for his brother.

"No," Alaric said, looking around for some sign of him. "Should he have been back? Maybe -" He stopped. "Maybe he just wasn't in the mood." He had been about to say, '_maybe he stayed at Elena's'._ But somehow he doubted that that was what happened.

"For werewolf-sitting? That doesn't really seem like him," he murmured thoughtfully. He stared out at nothing for a moment, and then met Alaric's patient gaze. "I'll be back. You can fill them while I'm gone." He pointed over at Jeremy and Tyler as they headed into the kitchen.

"You don't really think he's been hurt, do you?"

"I'll let you know," he said in a distracted voice, and then he left.

* * *

"Elena?" Damon called quietly outside Elena's bedroom door, knocking with unusual manners before he opened it and slipped inside. Elena was sitting up on her bed, her diary laying open a little way away from her.

He swept over to her side, looking into her face. Her eyes were rimmed with light red, and there were dark circles beneath them. He wondered if she'd slept at all last night.

"What's wrong?" he said softly, concern on his face. He looked over at the diary, and then back at her face. "Is it Stefan? Did something happen to him?"

She shook her head tightly, brushing her hair out of her face, but then laughed unsteadily. "I happened to him."

Damon's face was drawn with confusion for just a moment, the gears turning in his mind for just a few seconds before her eyes met his, full of guilt and weariness. Comprehension flooded his expression, softening it.

"You broke up with him?"

She swallowed, and then nodded. He didn't try and grab her or kiss her or even try and touch her, for which she was grateful. He seemed to know she was a little more fragile than usual right now.

"I'm glad I did," she said quietly, nodding slightly and looking into his eyes deliberately. "I know that. I just... I need some time to think things over before I can really start anything right now. I don't know if it's right to just..."

He held up a hand, a small, reassuring smile on his face. "That's okay. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do," he murmured gently. As her eyes fell back to the bedspread beneath her, he crouched down so he could see her face. "It's okay, Elena. I don't mind. When you want me, I'll be here, okay?"

Tears started in her eyes, but she blinked them away, trying to smile up at him again. Slowly, so as not to unnerve her, he moved his hand to hers where it rested on the covers, intertwining his fingers with hers gently for a few seconds.

As he went to pull away, she turned his hand over, taking it in both of hers and gripping it tightly. He sank down beside her, and she rose up onto her knees putting her arms around his neck, breathing deeply. His hands settled on her back softly, stroking her hair comfortingly until she released him.

He stood, lifting her hand smoothly and lightly kissing her fingers with a smile before he left. A small smile broke through Elena's brittle expression in spite of herself, and she shook her head bemusedly before clasping her tingling hand in the other tightly.

* * *

Damon's frowned carefully as he took out his phone, dialling Stefan's number for the third time. This time, though, as ringing stopped and the voicemail beeped, he didn't hang up.

He looked up before he spoke, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry Stefan," he said quietly, but his voice brimmed with emotion.

And then he snapped the phone shut and composed himself, pushing his way through the door with his own obvious brand of swagger and confidence. He waltzed into the front room, joining the small group that was now set up there.

"What did I miss?" he asked cheerfully, looking from face to face.

"I just found out I'm a horror-movie monster," Tyler said from the couch. He was only acting the part of the jerk, now, his expression was much calmer, if still a little shell-shocked.

"Pfft," Damon said, waving a hand. "Who hasn't?"

"Yeah, about that." Tyler pointed accusingly at him. "Don't you think you should've mentioned you were a goddamn vampire, dude? I mean, _before _you dragged me out into some weird cabin in the woods."

"It didn't seem relevant at the time." Damon smiled calmly over at him and leaned against the side of the couch casually.

"We were just deciding what to do in the future," Alaric inserted, leaning back in his chair.

"Yeah," Jeremy agreed. "So far no one seems to be a fan of just locking Tyler up in the basement next full moon."

"Yeah. I can feel these bruises forming on my back already, that -"

"That'd be from beating at the walls all night long." Jeremy said the last three words with deliberate slowness, stretching them out and rolling his eyes.

"Hey, it's not like I was really in control then," Tyler said defensively. Alaric sighed from the couch, having had to listen to this since they sat down.

"The point?" he said wearily, but there was a shade of amusement there, too.

"Okay," Damon said. "We go for prevention. You only turned when I -"

" - pissed me off?" Tyler said, smirking. Jeremy's mouth twisted to the side, and he looked over at Damon with amusement and grudging approval. He'd already been brought up to date on the whole incident, as much as Alaric could describe from a secondhand account.

"Yep."

"You just have to stay calm during the full moon and you don't turn?" Alaric said, surprised. "That's all?"

"Actually we don't know if that's all. There could be a few things that set him off that have nothing to do with his emotions." Damon exhaled heavily. "I never thought I'd have to actually research _werewolves_ of all things."

"You're telling me, Dracula," Tyler said jokingly. "I didn't think I'd have to be worry about turning into a wolf, but there you go."

"We do know one thing," Alaric said in an optimistic voice. "You stay human when you're unconscious or asleep."

"You are _not _shooting me every month," Tyler said immediately.

"I'm not saying we have to. We could try out sedatives first. Valium or something, to keep you calm, or something that knocks you out compeletely."

"We know those work on you," Jeremy interjected.

"Shut up," Tyler muttered. "So we just drug me out every month, and I stay normal?"

"Well as normal as you were before," Damon needled. "But you'll have to keep your cool around other people, by the looks of it. You're going to have some anger management issues, as you may have noticed by now. With that other nature inside of you..."

"He's right," Alaric agreed. "It'll be dormant, but even so, it'll probably needed to be monitored."

"Great."

"Hey, you could be a little grateful," Damon said, raising an eyebrow. "You could have woken up with a chunk of townsperson in your backteeth instead."

"That's awesome," Tyler said, his expression turning to disgust instead. Damon just shrugged.

"He's got a point," Jeremy told him, looking over. "Things could be worse, man."

"How?"

"Well for one thing, you didn't wake up in the woods this morning," he pointed out. "And at least you've got people willing to help you with this. You don't have to keep it to yourself forever."

Tyler's expression tightened slightly, and he looked around at the others there. His gaze flicked down and then he looked back up again.

"You're right."

* * *

Elena was still stuck in her indecision - and her room - when it hit nine o'clock, and Jenna knocked on her door.

"Elena?" she asked tentatively. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," she replied, setting aside the book she was reading. There were a few similiar distractions strewn around the room, including her iPod and her diary and her phone. She'd already washed her hair twice that day, and cleaned her room once, just for something else to do.

Jenna poked her head in the door, before coming in completely. She went over and sat next to Elena on the bed, touching her shoulder comfortingly.

"You okay?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, of course," Elena lied badly. She looked down at Jenna's outfit, and then narrowed her eyes in mock suspicion at the dress. "And where are you going, miss?" She raised an eyebrow jokingly.

"To dinner," Jenna replied in the same tone. "Alaric said that tonight may be one of the only times we actually have nothing happening. Jeremy's hanging out with Tyler somewhere, too, so that's good, huh?"

Elena reached out and squeezed Jenna's hand, the same hopeful expression on her face. "It's great."

"He also told me to tell you," she said slowly, catching Elena's attention. "That, and I quote, 'He can be a dick, but he loves you.'" Immediately, Jenna held both hands up in a peace gesture. "I'm not interpreting, I'm just repeating."

With that, she got to her feet and walked out of the room, casting her just one knowing look as she closed the door.

Elena waited for an hour, just thinking. And then another. By the time she started to think properly again, she decided that it was too late. She'd sleep on it, and things would be easier for her to decide in the morning, right?

But as soon as she lay down to sleep, turning off the light as she did so, she couldn't make herself close her eyes. They stayed wide open and staring, adjusting to the dimness of her room with annoying clarity. She could clearly see everything in the black-and-white room in front of her, and it all seemed to distract her.

It was rounding the second-half of midnight when Elena sat up with an annoyed sound. She threw a jacket over her singlet and flannel pants, beyond caring what she looked like.

Of course, when she actually pulled up to the boarding house, she did briefly wish she'd had the foresight to drag a brush through her hair; tossing and turning on the pillow probably hadn't made her that desirable.

Elena went straight into the house without hesitation, noticing immediately that it was completely dark; no one was here. The fire had even died.

She walked ginergly up the stairs and over to his room, hesitating with her hand over the doorknob for a moment. Would he think she was being stupid, or ridiculous?

The answer was suddenly obvious - no, he wouldn't.

She slipped into the room, and a smile crept onto her face as she looked over. Damon was asleep, breathing shallowly with his arm resting on his bare chest. His face was completely relaxed.

She walked slowly over, fighting the stupid, happy laugh she could feel in her throat. Not because of him, but because of the ridiculous, bubbly pressure in her chest. She pulled off her jacket and set it on the bed, sitting beside him and turning his face toward her gently.

He didn't startle; his eyes opened slowly, moving over her face before he propped himself up on his elbow. He looked into her eyes for a long moment, and then leaned forward, still testing for her permission. Elena closed the distance without hesitation, letting herself sink into that kiss. As her eyes closed, and she felt his fingers wind through her hair, she wondered why she'd wasted so much time at home when she could have been here.

After an impossibly long and blissful moment, he pulled back a fraction, her lips trying to follow his before she gathered her suddenly nonexistent thoughts, opening her eyes to stare into his again. He brushed his feather-soft lips against her cheek once, coaxing another smile from her, her eyes shutting briefly, before he shifted to the side.

She slipped in beneath the covers and sank down into his waiting arms, breathing deeply as she set her head against his chest. He trailed his fingers softly through her hair in a slow rhythm, and neither of them said a word.

They didn't need to.

THE END.

* * *

**Hey guys, I know this ending might disappoint a bunch of you, but I didn't think that they would just rush to get together with this big sex scene and the iloveyous. **

**Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for reading this so far (it's still a little crazy to me that so many people actually liked it) and to those who reviewed and various-alerted it, I don't know if I'll write another story or not, but everyone was really supportive!**

**(I have to admit, though, I winced a little whenever I saw a whole thing of emails in my inbox, thinking someone was going to be like 'OMG THAT CHAPTER WAS ATROCIOUS' but everyone was always lovely :) ) **

**I hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks again. **

**xx **

**p.s. whether this is a disappointment or a yay-moment, Stefan doesn't kill hismelf or anything in my head, he just takes some time off to try and get over Elena. **


End file.
